Sweet Escape: Smitten Series, #1

By Susan V. Vaughn

Ted Harper knew moving to Milford to open his dream bar wouldn't be easy. But he could have never imagined he would be so easily distracted from his goal. Violet Marino is beautiful, smart, captivating, and unfortunately, his next-door neighbor. Now Ted has a dilemma on his hands he didn't anticipate as his life becomes entangled with a woman he can't seem to forget.

Violet Marino has spent decades caring for her family and working at her father's restaurant as a waitress. Hardly the life she dreamed of living when she was a little girl. But after her mother died, she was never a little girl again. Thrust into the parenting role for her two younger siblings, Violet sacrificed everything for their well-being.

When a handsome business owner offers her more than just a sweet escape, Violet is tempted to take him up on the offer. Even if that means jumping into the unknown.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: Jun 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781949931105

Book preview

Chapter 1

What do you think about that guy over there?

Violet Marino turned to her sister, Cora, and suppressed the urged to laugh. What did she think about the man who opened the cocktail bar/used bookstore next door? The man who wore jeans to work and constantly had a baseball cap on his head? That was easy. She didn’t think about him at all.

She was too busy wondering what the hell she was doing with her life. Why was she still working at her father’s restaurant at twenty-six and living at home.

He looks boring, she decided.

Boring? He’s opening a bar where you read. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Cora shook her head, sighing dreamily. It’s inventive.

Or stupid. I mean, how many people do you know that drink want to read while they are doing it? She watched her sister’s eyes lighten and held up a hand. Never mind, don’t answer that. You’re too young to drink, and I don’t want to know that you do.

Cora seemed ready to argue, so Vi turned away. The point is the man next door is setting himself to fail opening a business like that. And it’s a shame, too, because he looks like he could use the money.

Just because a man wears torn jeans doesn’t mean he’s poor, Cora pointed out.

She shrugged, already tired of the subject.

Her sister took a long drag of her cigarette, still watching the man next door as he pulled box after box from the trunk of his Silver Ford Transit. I think he’s kind of hot.

You think everyone’s hot. She rolled her eyes. Cora was a dreamy twenty-year-old who fell in love with every man she met. She actually believed that one day her knight in shining armor would come to rescue her from their small town.

Violet didn’t share her sister’s views on Prince Charming. And she didn’t share her happy-go-lucky outlook on life either. There was nothing to be happy-go-lucky about when she had stopped chasing her dreams long ago.

She never meant to get stuck in her life like this. Her plan was to use her hard-earned teaching degree from Michigan State University and work at an elementary school.

Too bad every time she thought about using that degree, she would freak out. Her mind would take over and question whether she could actually make it as a teacher, whether she had followed the right career path. A crippling thought process that happened to her quite often. Her father and sisters constantly told her she needed to relax. And it was true. She was way too uptight and way too anxious.

The panic attacks started when she was seven. She would go to school, do her work, and the second something went wrong, she wouldn’t be able to breathe. After an attack, she would go home, where it was safe, and sleep away her depression. The next day, she would push herself harder to cover up the shame over her failure. And the cycle would begin again! She graduated high school at top of her class because of that cycle, but she had so many meltdowns along the way it was almost not worth it.

Now she was stuck in her hometown of Milford, doing the same thing she did at sixteen. As the oldest of three girls, she was setting a horrible example for her little sisters, both of whom lived at home too. If she didn’t move on with her life, Cora and Emily wouldn’t either. Just the thought of that made her chest tighten.

She turned to Cora, snatched the cigarette from her mouth, and tossed it on the ground.

Hey! her sister cried. What did you do that for?

You shouldn’t be smoking. It’s bad for you. There, she had done her big sisterly duty for the day.

You’re such a buzzkill, Cora complained, crossing her arms over her chest.

She didn’t have a response because it was true. She was a buzzkill in every sense of the word. She was addicted to schedules and cleanliness. Everything she did had a precise order and purpose. There was nothing spontaneous in her day.

You should be thanking me, she told Cora. Not only did I just add five minutes to your life by tossing that cancer stick out, I did all the morning prep myself so you and Em could sleep in.

We didn’t ask you to do it.

But I did it anyway, like I always do it, she said, holding her sister's gaze. "Because I am a buzzkill."

Cora grinned. And because you don’t have a life.

Look who’s talking. She cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. Last time I checked, neither of us are living up to our full potential.

But at least I go out once in a while.

She thought about how many dates Cora had been on in the last month—more than Violet had been on in her whole entire life—and couldn’t help but feel depressed. Though she didn’t envy her little sister’s beauty or her ability to attract the opposite sex. Men were nothing but a headache, that was the way Violet saw it. She already had enough anxiety dealing with her own mental problems. She didn’t need a man to complicate things too.

Then why did just the thought of not dating bother her so much?

You could go out too, you know. Cora inclined her head, looking thoughtful. I’ve been seeing this guy, Jimmy. And he has an older brother—

She put her hand over her sister’s mouth, unwilling to hear the rest. I don’t need a date, thank you. Especially not one her little sister picked out. Cora had a thing for hot guys with no brains and even less personality. And if those losers had any money at all—forget about it. Cora honestly saw a wealthy husband as her way up in the world. And it’s all my fault.

Their mother had died when Cora was a baby, so Violet was the only mother her baby sister knew. And between her panic attacks and fear of living her life, Violet wasn’t much of a mother. When Cora started struggling in school, Violet hadn’t known how to help her sister. Instead, she watched Cora battle with her confidence, relying on her looks and personality to distract from the fact that she felt stupid inside.

It drives me crazy!

The door slammed open behind them, making her jump.

Cora! Get your chain-smoking butt in here. You’ve got a table! Emily Marino jogged between them. Everything from her ponytail and gray track suit read, watch out. Because that was what their middle sister was—tough, athletic, and in-your-face.

Oh great, I can’t wait to serve. Cora yawned loudly. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go back to work.

You better get moving, Violet warned her. Dad will be pissed if you keep customers waiting. And judging by the expression on Emily’s face, Cora would be in big trouble if she didn’t take Violet’s advice. Which was why Violet gave the advice, because it was her job, as the oldest, to keep the peace between her two ungrateful siblings.

A thankless and tireless job.

This is my ten-minute break, Cora said casually, stretching one hand out in front of her face to examine her perfectly manicured nails. Dad knows that.

Break time’s over. Emily grabbed Cora’s outstretched arm and began pulling her toward the door with brute force.

Stop tugging! Cora screamed, trying to yank her arm out of Emily’s tight grasp. I’ll come when I’m ready.

Emily let Cora go but didn’t soften her glare. When you have a table, break time is over. That’s what Dad says. Of course, you’ve never listened to Dad before, so why would you now?

I do too! Cora stomped her foot like a child and then turned to Violet, pouting. I always do my tables, don’t I, Vi?

Only because I make you, Emily interjected, turning her attention to Violet too. Isn’t that right, Vi?

She looked between her two sisters, that tightness in her chest becoming unbearable. Of course, they expected her to break up their argument, on top of her impending panic attack. And the worst part was her sisters were both so stubborn that there was no way to solve an argument between them anyway.

Can’t you both just get along for one day?

Both Emily and Cora crossed their arms over their chest. It was in unison, like always, because their stubbornness wasn’t the only attribute they had in common. Both had long, blonde, straight hair. Cora’s was bleached out, but if it wasn’t, it would be the same dirty blonde shade as Emily’s. Both had been blessed with the perfect hourglass-shaped bodies. Cora wore tight clothes to play up her curves, while Emily wore two sports bras to force her boobs flat. Both attracted plenty of attention with their over-the-top personalities and their zest for life. Just like their mother had.

And what did I inherit? All the Italian genes from her father’s side. Dark curly hair, olive skin, short stature, and the sensitive nature that ensured she would always be stuck in the middle of her sister’s fights.

She turned to Emily, deciding she had attacked Cora already about the cigarette. Cora knows she has a table, and she’s going.

I’m going, Cora agreed bitterly, throwing her hands in the air. Even though this is my ten-minute break.

And you used it so productively. Emily smirked, gesturing to the cigarette still burning on the ground.

Hey! It’s a free country. If I want to smoke, I get to smoke.

You should be exercising, Emily scolded.

Cora starred back at her with disbelief. On my ten-minute break?

I run on my breaks, Emily pointed out.

That’s because you’re a freak.

Okay, that’s enough. Violet stood between them. Her sisters were headed into another all-out war, and she wasn’t in the mood.

She turned to Cora. Go do your table.

She knew her sister would listen. She might not have been a good role model, but both of her sisters still looked up to her. Probably out of desperation. Every girl needed a mother figure in their life. Too bad she no longer had one. And just thinking about it made her want to cry.

Cora’s eyes widened, immediately noticing Violet was upset. Her little sister was very sensitive to her panic attacks and emotions. Anything out of the ordinary with Violet scared her. Without another word, she turned on her black heels and headed for the back door of the restaurant.

Emily stuck out her tongue in Cora’s direction before turning back to Violet. I need your help unloading the new wine shipment that came in. Emily didn’t notice Violet’s panic attacks or her emotions. She didn’t seem to notice anything.

You can’t do it yourself, Superman? she joked, pressing a hand against her throbbing chest. Her middle sister loved to do all the heavy lifting, mowing, and car fixing—jobs that would have been their brothers if they had one.

I already tried, Emily admitted, rubbing her left bicep. I think I tore something.

An instant comical image of Emily trying to balance several large boxes by herself came to mind. Her sister was tiny and constantly trying to prove she wasn’t.

Poor baby. She grinned, patting her sister hard on her left arm.

Ouch! Not so rough, Vi. Emily tried not to grin back, but she was helpless when it came to stuff like that. If someone smiled, laughed, or was attempting to be the least bit funny, Emily would give in to hysterics. It was kind of ironic, considering she was normally so straight-laced. But every Superman had a kryptonite, and Em’s was comedy.

Now that her little sister had lightened up, she decided to take another attempt at creating peace between the Marino sisters. You need to lay off Cora.

Emily’s grin disappeared. And you need to be harder on her. She reached up and tightened her ponytail, something she normally did when uncomfortable. Cora has done nothing since she graduated high school.

She works—

At finding a future husband and smoking. Emily held her gaze, daring her to argue.

Too bad she had no argument. It was all true. Cora had not continued her education. She was stuck in her life as they all were. Emily had been offered a scholarship to play college volleyball but was forced to drop out halfway through her first semester for medical reasons. She moved home years ago and seemed to have lost all direction for her life after that.

Violet had failed both her sisters.

You might be okay with Cora doing nothing, Emily continued. But I’m not.

I’m not okay with it. She turned away from Emily’s piercing gaze. Her sisters just didn’t understand the pressure she was under. The guilt she carried because she hadn’t done enough for them.

But Cora is twenty, she added. She is old enough to make her own decisions. We really don’t have a say—

Bullshit! Emily growled. She’s our family, we have every right.

She let out a breath and turned back to her sister. This was how Emily showed she cared. She got angry and exploded. It was why Cora thought Emily was attacking her, when in fact, she was just trying to prevent Cora from making a mistake. If only her middle sister would learn to soften her delivery. I know you care about her, she said, grabbing Emily’s hand. But you can’t force Cora to do what she doesn’t want to do.

Emily’s expression tightened with emotion, and she pulled away from her hand. We have to force her, Vi. Don’t you see that? Cora is screwing up her life. If we aren’t careful, she will marry some idiot who will treat her like garbage.

Nah, we’ll kick his ass before she makes it down the aisle, she said, making Emily smile. 

That we will, she agreed.

Violet knew the conversation about Cora was long from over, but at least Em was no longer close to tears.

"The point is, we’ll help Cora when we need to, she said with emphasis. For now, we need to let her be."

Emily sighed and turned toward the door. Maybe you’re right. But I can’t help feeling like Mom would want us to do more.

I guess we’ll never know. Because Mom isn’t here. She was never coming back.

Em cleared her throat. Well... See you in the storage room, she said abruptly, opening the door and disappearing inside. She was not a fan of talking about their mother. It was surprising that she brought it up at all.

Violet turned away from the door and closed her eyes. There was a boulder on her chest, and her throat burned with the urge to cry. She would have to eliminate both problems before she helped Emily carry in the wine shipment and helped Cora with the dinner rush. And then do clean up, inventory, and go home to cook her father a late dinner he would more than likely not eat. Then go to bed, wake up, and do it all again.

She was sweating by the time she opened her eyes. Her panic attack was taking over. She saw the lit cigarette still burning on the ground and picked it up with one shaky hand. This seemed to calm Cora and so many others. Maybe the nicotine would work on her, too.

She placed the cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. Horrific burning like she’d never known stole over her throat and lungs. The pressure on her chest became unbearable. Her eyes watered as the poison entered her body and made her cough uncontrollably.

She bent over, dropping the cigarette to the pavement, and gave in to the hacking spasms that wracked her chest.

How the hell did her little sister enjoy smoking?

Are you okay? A deep voice shocked her out of her coughing attack, and a stranger’s hand on her shoulder sent shivers down her spine.

She took several deep breaths and stood up to face the man who owned The Library Pub next door. And Cora was right, he was kind of hot. Dark eyes, shaggy blond hair, and full lips curved in a devilish grin. His chiseled chin line reminded her of a model and he had broad shoulders like an athlete.

She stared at his hand on her shoulder and felt her cheeks pound with heat. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn’t. Her distress had turned into embarrassment so fast it was ridiculous.

Not a smoker, huh? He chuckled with amusement.

She took a step back, letting his hand drop off her shoulder. She didn’t like people laughing at her. She had some pride. I never smoke.

He gestured to the cigarette on the ground. If we were playing the game, I Never, you would have to drink.

Huh?

I Never, he repeated, looking at her as if she should understand. You know, where you say something you’ve never done, and if it isn’t true, you take a drink. Tell me you know what I’m talking about.

She had no idea, but she liked the way his face had gotten all animated. I don’t know what you’re talking about, she admitted.

It’s a game that gets you drunk.

Oh, like beer pong, or whatever. I never understood the appeal of drinking games.

He raised one