The Last Pages: The Stantons, #2

By Lita Locke

Daisy's a born romantic and there's nothing more romantic than a wedding ... well, right up until the champagne toasts and cake cutting anyway.  Now she's seriously debating 'death by cake fork'!

Sean's a born mechanic and there's nothing sexier than a classic car ... well, right up until he saw a certain bridesmaid, that was.  Now he's seriously fantasizing about what's under her hood!

Crossing paths during the Wedding Reception from Hell, the only way these city slickers will make it out of the Cotswold countryside and matchmaking misery, is together.  But can this grubby knight in tarnished armor ever convince Daisy to trust her own heart?  Can Sean show her that their own story is a romance worth writing?

If love's last pages always end in happy ever after, will theirs?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lita Locke
• Release date: May 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386556343

Book preview

THE

LAST

PAGES

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( The Stantons - Book Two )

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~  Lita  Locke  ~

THE  LAST  PAGES

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Daisy’s a born romantic and there’s nothing more romantic than a wedding ... well, right up until the champagne toasts and cake cutting anyway.  Now she’s seriously debating ‘death by cake fork’!

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Sean’s a born mechanic and there’s nothing sexier than a classic car ... well, right up until he saw a certain bridesmaid, that was.  Now he’s seriously fantasizing about what’s under her hood!

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Crossing paths during the Wedding Reception from Hell, the only way these city slickers will make it out of the Cotswold countryside and matchmaking misery, is together.  But can this grubby knight in tarnished armor ever convince Daisy to trust her own heart?  Can Sean show her that their own story is a romance worth writing?

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If love’s last pages always end in happy ever after, will theirs?

The Last Pages

Copyright © Lita Locke 2014

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Cover design by Design for Writers

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Cover credit:

Green Shop photograph © Pi-Lens via Shutterstock

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All rights reserved.

This e-book is under a limited electronic license.

Not to be resold, relicensed, reproduced, redistributed or transferred.

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This is a work of fiction.  All characters, names, businesses, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Contains mature / romantic themes, humor and language.

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~  www.litalocke.com  ~

AUTHOR  NOTE:

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Woadswold is a fictional village of my own invention,

tucked away in the heart of the English Cotswolds.

CONTENTS

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- 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 -

Book  List

- Chapter 1 -

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Daisy Stanton always cried at weddings.

She was also prone to sobbing, wailing, weeping, bawling and bursting into tears.

If there was even the slightest whiff of romance about a situation whatsoever, she turned on the waterworks.  The more romantic the situation, the more misty-eyed she would become.  And of course, what could possibly be more romantic than a wedding?

It wasn’t just any wedding either.  Her brother Jake was getting married.

Looking suave and dapper in his tux, Jake rolled his eyes and thrust a handkerchief in her direction before turning his attention back on the man conducting the ceremony.  The mayor of Woadswold, who was not only the marriage celebrant but one of the local people instrumental in bringing the soon-to-be husband and wife together in the first place, continued.

And do you, Serenity Ryan, take this man to be your husband?

Daisy’s nearly new sister-in-law smiled at Jake and said she did.

Then, with a joyous pronouncement of husband and wife, it was over and Jake was hitched.  No longer the confirmed, swinging bachelor, but a happily married man!  Amid the cheers and hollers of the watching crowd, the newly joined couple kissed to seal their deal.

And Daisy burst into a fresh round of tears.

As the bride and groom turned to greet their wedding well-wishers, Daisy studied the pair through blurry eyes.

Serenity, Daisy’s new sister-in-law, wore a tasteful yet traditional wedding gown, a garland of charming country roses decorating her hair.  She was a stunning woman, strikingly dark next to Daisy’s blonde brother, but they complemented each other perfectly.  Jake stared at Serenity with adoration, his hands resting proprietarily on her waist, his new wedding band glinting in the afternoon sunshine, contentment oozing from every pore.

The couple looked so happy.

So much in love.

While Daisy adored romance in any shape or form, she’d never been very good at the next step—that of love.  But now, standing here watching the married couple so happy together, well, she suddenly wished someone would look at her like that.  With promises of forever and fidelity on his lips, and with eternal, exquisite love in his heart and soul.

Unbeknownst to her, someone was doing exactly that.

Well ... almost.

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Sean Wheeler, unavoidably detained and unconscionably late, was doing more than just looking.  He was practically undressing his mystery woman where she stood.

His eyes might have been staring, but his mind had shifted into full-blown fantasy mode.  He’d just gotten to the best bit too, had stripped her down to her underthings—a midnight black bra and matching G-string and stockings or so, he hoped—when he heard his name being called.  Repeatedly!

Damn it!

He turned to glare at the offender and noticed an audience of two.

Why, bless me.  If it isn’t little Sean Wheeler, one elderly lady cackled.

Why sister, you’re right.  He’s a bit more than knee-high to a grasshopper now though, the second one crowed.

A spark of recognition slammed into Sean.  These two women were something you couldn’t forget, no matter how many years you’d been removed from this village.  It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been back to Woadswold since you were twelve years old or that you were knee-high to a grasshopper the last time you’d laid eyes on them.  Some things, unfortunately, just didn’t leave you.

Miss Murphy.  And Miss Murphy.  What an unexpected surprise!

Sean nodded his head politely in their direction, while taking a tiny, unnoticeable step backward.  Perhaps if he inched away real slow, he could escape before they sunk their claws into him.

Come now, dear.  You’re all grown-up.  You can call us by our first names.  I’m Millie, said Millie, taking one of his elbows in her hands with a talon-like grip.

And I’m Tillie, said Tillie, grasping his other elbow in a surprisingly strong way for such an old woman.

Sean tried to surreptitiously shake them off, but the two harpies had a death grip on him.

Millie.  Tillie.  I was just— Sean began.

We saw what you were doing, Millie interrupted, a smug grin on her wrinkled face.

The Murphy twins both glanced over at the woman he’d been ogling.  She had just been surrounded by a mob of Serenity’s Italian relatives, who hugged, pinched and kissed, as they welcomed the poor girl to the family.

We know what you were thinking, Tillie told him, a matching grin on her own face.

Sean bet they couldn’t.  They’d have to have dirty minds to be thinking his gutter thoughts.  After all, these were two sweet, innocent ladies.  Weren’t they?

Pretty girl like that, observed Millie.

You want to meet her, suggested Tillie.

That’s what you were thinking, right? both ladies asked, in unison.

"Umm, yes.  That’s it, exactly.  That’s definitely all I was thinking about," he mumbled.

Well, come on, Millie ordered.  We’ll introduce you.

Millie and Tillie glanced at each other, a certain kind of significant psychic moment that often seemed to pass between female folk.  Sean never really understood woman stuff, had preferred to stay far away from it in fact, but for once, he’d give anything to know what that ‘look’ had said.

As he was dragged over to meet his mystery woman, the one who’d been starring in his sexy fantasies these last ten minutes, Sean had his own sudden premonition.

He had just realized he’d found a lot more trouble than he’d bargained for.

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Daisy was praying.

While not particularly religious, she was covering all her bases, tossing out multi-deity and multi-religion prayers to whichever benevolent god, goddess or passing spirit was listening right now.  All she was asking for was a thunderstorm.  Or freak snow in summer.  Even a plague of frogs would be handy.  Just a little something to act as a distraction so she could make a quick getaway.

Having been suddenly set upon by a slew of Serenity’s relatives, Daisy was growing more uncomfortable by the second.  She’d been squeezed and hugged, kissed and cuddled, and every time she nearly got her breath back, she’d be hugged and kissed and squeezed and cuddled some more.

Oh, and if Serenity’s cousin of a cousin leered at her or groped her butt one more time, she’d have a complete meltdown and scream at the lot of them!

If something didn’t happen in the next few minutes, Daisy would have to fake a fainting spell, wilting like her flower namesake, sinking to the green grass of the village green before crawling her way to freedom.  And she’d do it too!  Grass stains on her bridesmaid dress, be damned.

Daisy, hollered a voice.  Oh, Daaaaaaaisy!

Glancing around, Daisy burst out laughing.  Storming toward her were the Misses Murphy.  Here came the cavalry, her rescue was at hand.  Escape was imminent, with not a second to lose.

One of the elderly twins beat a path between the relatives and freedom, and Daisy dashed out, stomping on a few toes as she went.  Served them right, she thought, stomping on a few more feet for good measure.

And then, just as suddenly, she couldn’t think, her heart in her throat, a gasp of dismay ripping from her lips as she tripped over something and flew headlong into a hard, steel wall.

Of chest.

Dressed in a dinner jacket.

Whoops!  Sorry, mister, Daisy mumbled, her words muffled against his chest as her fingers grabbed his shirt to steady herself.

She also unintentionally inhaled his scent while she was at it.  An odd cologne!  Like cars.  And motor oil.

Daisy raised her gaze up his chest, over his neck, over the tiny dent in his squarish chin, up an unexpectedly handsome face until she was looking directly at his eyes—which weren’t actually looking at her in return!

The man might have had his arms around her waist, holding her body like there was no tomorrow, but he wasn’t even seeing her.  He was too busy glaring at something over her shoulder, his eyes narrowed, his mouth frowning.

Daisy wanted to tell him to stop frowning, to stop marring his beautiful face with negative emotions.  She wanted to tell him to look at her so she could see what color his eyes were.  Would they be forest green?  Or a nice deep shade of brown?  She wanted him to smile so she could see that sexy little dimple wink at her.  And she wanted other things too, things that had to do with being held against his body like they were now, only with no clothes on.

Daisy shrugged out of his grip and it was only then that he seemed to register he’d been holding her.  Only when she stepped away, did he deign look at her.

Yowza!

Was this another of Serenity’s relatives?  If so, she wouldn’t mind him pawing her butt!

His eyes were more than brown.  They were rich, melting chocolate.  They were hot cocoa on a cold winter’s night.  They were expensive mink.  And they were making love to her right then and there.

Daisy flushed.  She couldn’t help it.

The man smiled at her reaction.  And she’d been right.  His dimple did wink!

Heavens above!

Her heart picked up speed, felt like it was going to jump out of her chest and run a marathon all by itself.  Her legs were all shaky, her knees like jelly.  Daisy was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open like an idiot.  She was probably drooling too.

I’m not drunk, she said, then cringed inwardly.

That was not a good first line to deliver to a man who looked like a god.  Or a pinup playboy.

I didn’t think you were, the guy told her.

I might be drunk later though, she announced, then immediately cursed under her breath.

What the hell was wrong with her?  Why couldn’t she just shut up?

The man laughed.  A deep, rich, husky laugh that crinkled the corners of his deep, rich, melting chocolaty eyes.

Well then, you’ll have to be careful.  Men take advantage of drunk single women at weddings.  He smiled again.  That’s what I’ve heard anyway.

Daisy knew he wasn’t that type, to take advantage of a drunk woman, that was.  He didn’t have to!  Women would definitely be the ones to throw themselves at him, not the other way around.  She’d bet a month’s pay on it.

Even now there were a couple of other women sniffing around them, giving him the once and twice over, waiting for their own crack at this stunning specimen of manhood.

I bet lots of women throw themselves at you, she blurted out.

Damn it!  Why weren’t her mouth and hormones listening to her brain?  She was smarter than this.  She never acted this way around the opposite sex.  What was wrong with her?

The man shrugged.  Yes, they do.

He said it so honestly, so simply, it sounded like one of the Universal Truths of Mankind.  There was gravity, time, space and this guy!

Daisy wasn’t jealous.  She wasn’t!  She just wished those two circling, lipstick vultures would back off and let her talk with him.  They’d get their turn later when he got bored with her.  But for now, she was vain enough to want to bask in the glorious glow of his attention.

The man continued.  Then they find out what I do for a living.  Take off pretty fast after that.

Trying to think of a career quite revolting, she tossed out options.  Undertaker?  Taxidermist?  Oh, I know.  A dentist.

He laughed, making her shiver.

No, none of the above.  I’m actually a mechanic.

Oh, well, that wasn’t bad at all.  And it explained his unique scent.

The world needs mechanics, she told him sincerely.  My previous car was a clunker that always needed fixing.

What happened to it? he asked.

I fixed it real good.  Sold it for scrap metal, Daisy chuckled, earning her a smile back.

Probably for the best.  I’ve known cars like that.  Women too.  Always fixin’ something.  Hair.  Makeup.  Clothes.  The guy shrugged.  "But they shoot through when they find