Forgiving Patience

By Jennifer Simpkins

Anna Kelly never intended to return to her hometown of Patience, Tennessee. Feeling powerless after an abusive childhood and left brokenhearted by her high school sweetheart, she'd needed distance between herself and the small town. Eleven years later, she has no choice but to return. Though she feels stronger this time around, nothing can prepare her for seeing her ex again.

After a baseball injury, Jake Lawrence limped back to Patience. He's just getting his life back together again and can't risk sending it back to hell. But the woman who broke his heart has whipped back into town.
Hoping to remind Anna of what she ran away from all those years ago, he makes her an offer she can't refuse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jun 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781509226429

Jennifer Simpkins

Jennifer has always been an avid reader, but it wasn't until she became a stay-at-home mom did she start to read romance. Her passion of reading romance turned into another passion she had as a child—writing. One late night of writing about sexy heroes and strong-willed heroines turned into two nights, until seven months later she had written her first novel. She lives in a small, Tennessee town with her supportive husband (whose dream is to be on the cover of one of her books), a beautiful daughter, and two dogs who can’t seem to get along. If she's not writing you can find her reading, hanging out with her family, or cheering on the New York Yankees.

Book preview

Inc.

His body shifted next to hers. Why did you leave me, Anna?

The words cut through her. They were sharp, heavy, and full of hurt. She could not only see the pain in his expression, but she could feel it. She knew that pain all too well. He’d broken her heart and caused her to cover up that same hurt.

You left me, Jake. That night in May, you left me. Tears clouded her vision. God, why did she have to cry in front of him? The first tear fell down the cheek he’d just touched.

She turned from him, as she had so many other times during her short two-day stay, and this time he didn’t stop her. She had to get away from him and the memories he represented. Why did he do this to her? Why did he kiss her, make her feel things she’d never felt? And why did he have to bring up the past?

Anna?

She kept her back to him. She couldn’t let him see the tears he’d caused.

I’m sorry, he said.

She could hear him walk away, leaving behind a broken heart and a storm of emotions.

Praise for Jennifer Simpkins

Ms. Simpkins puts a lot of interesting layers into her characters. Anna is a strong yet vulnerable woman who has come home to deal with her inner demons. Jake is the quintessential yummy hero, who has demons of his own to fight. They are both like an onion, one just has to peel one layer at a time, to see their true character.

~InD’tale Magazine (4 Stars)

Forgiving Patience

by

Jennifer Simpkins

The Patience Series, Book 1

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Forgiving Patience

COPYRIGHT © 2020 by Jennifer Simpkins

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

Previously published: Secret Cravings Publishing, 2013

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2020

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2641-2

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2642-9

The Patience Series, Book 1

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

Throughout the process of writing this book

I was supported by some amazing people…

My husband,

who never thought for a second I was crazy

for embarking on this journey.

Jennie,

for being my sometimes-late-night writing partner

and always believing I could do this before I even did.

And my sweet daughter,

I hope you remember the dreams you have now as

a child will still be reachable when you’re grown.

To my readers:

I hope you enjoy reading Anna’s story

as much as I loved writing it.

Acknowledgments

I want to thank The Wild Rose Press for seeing the potential in Forgiving Patience and giving it a new home.

Chapter One

Jackass! Anna Kelly white-knuckled the wheel of her small convertible and screamed into the wind and exhaust fumes left by the truck of the speed demon who zipped in front of her.

Filled with more rage than fear at the terrifying thought of being killed by what looked like one of those giant green pythons stitched across the front of a Boston baseball player’s uniform, she continued driving down the curvy stretch of road toward the home she’d sped away from eleven years before. She should’ve taken her New York Sparks license plate and shoved it into that Boston truck’s ass.

Not that she knew for a fact he was a Boston fan. She just hated pythons, and the truck’s ugly shade of green rubbed her the wrong way.

With a damaged heart and soul at the age of eighteen, she couldn’t leave October Road fast enough. She’d spent fifteen years of her youth on the lonesome path. Except for Ms. Edna’s and her properties, hundreds of acres on the left side of the road were used primarily for farming. Corn grew on most of the lush farmland, the rest left to be cut for hay.

Forcing herself to take in a calming breath, she smelled the sweet scent only freshly cut hay could leave in the air. She exhaled slowly.

The breath was of no help. Her mind still raced after her near-death experience.

The Lawrence farm was off the main highway, a mile before her own road and leaving no reason for either brother to venture down her way. Unless her spitfire neighbor had a crazy-as-hell grandson, the reckless driver had to be some jerk joyriding in his daddy’s oversize truck. She enjoyed driving fast—music loud—as much as the next person, but she wasn’t about running somebody off the road.

Welcome back to Patience.

She hadn’t wanted to come back here in the first place, and as she’d expected, things already looked bleak.

Finally, just to the right, she could see a clearing. She was almost there, and it would be time to go to work. She’d been trying to pump herself up for the last hour or so, but now that the time had arrived, she didn’t know if she was ready. What if she wasn’t strong enough for the ass-kicking she was about to put herself through? Why couldn’t Em have chosen to get married in Hawaii or the Smoky Mountains? Anywhere else in the world was safer than Patience.

The same post she’d remembered as a child held up a mailbox with the barely legible numbers one, nine, two painted on the side. Anything more than a slight breeze and the rotten wood was going to be lying in her ditch. She made a mental note to have it repaired.

The front of the house was impossible to see because of the unkempt bushes lining the driveway. The smell of freshly cut grass filled her head again—immediately bringing back memories, at least the good ones, of the times she’d spent with friends at the ball field or having weenie roasts in the Lawrence family’s field. That particular smell transported her back in time. She gave in to the urge to park there for several minutes, eyes closed and soaking it all in.

She couldn’t glimpse the house she hadn’t seen since that rainy morning in May due to the four-wheel-drive truck interfering with her view.

You’ve got to be kidding me! Python is parked in my drive, she muttered. The idiot who’d come close to ending her life had his big-ass truck parked in her driveway. The guy was going to get a piece of her mind.

A few years ago, she would’ve avoided the confrontation, but not now. She was no longer a pushover. She’d grown a backbone—well, was in the process of growing one—and this guy was going to see the new Anna. This time she refused to be the same little girl who wasn’t allowed to have an opinion or voice when it came to her life. Standing up for herself was the only option she had. She refused to be a woman who lay down and took what was given to her. Might as well use that backbone right now and show this boy who he’d just messed with.

After cutting the engine of her car, she peeled herself off the leather seat and swung the door open in one smooth motion. She blew back strands of hair falling on her face as she marched to the truck. What she wouldn’t do for a hair tie. Today was just like any other Tennessee summer day, and the air was hot and so thick at times it was hard to breathe. Every part of her felt disgusting. If she got rid of the roadrunner parked in her drive fast enough, she would have time to strip off her clothes, open the bottle of wine she’d brought, and take a long bubble bath. A bath that wrinkled every part of her body.

She rose to the tips of her toes to peer through the mud-streaked window but only saw a soda can in the designated holder, trash thrown on the passenger floorboard, and a simple gold chain dangling from the rearview mirror. Nothing useful.

She stomped to the right and then to the left of the house. Nothing. He couldn’t have gone far. He had to show his ugly face sooner or later to get to his toy out front. She would just prop herself up against his door and wait.

She wished she had her Louisville Slugger baseball bat or whatever her crazy aunt called it—oh yeah, ball buster. When Anna got her first place in Linden, Aunt Lidia had insisted she get a ball buster. She would remind Anna that every woman needed protection from the crazies in the world. If she had one at that very moment, she could use it on the truck and then the guy. That would let out some of her built-up anger.

Can I help you? a deep masculine voice questioned from behind her.

She whipped her head around, almost losing her balance in the process, and was met with a man wearing ripped jeans and a white T-shirt stretched around toned muscles. She didn’t know much about sex, but she had a feeling this guy was the pure definition of it. At least, what great sex would be like.

Was it getting hotter? For a second she considered fanning herself but used her brain instead and didn’t give the man standing in front of her the satisfaction of knowing he was droolworthy.

To top it off, his ball cap hung low over his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun and hopefully, from her uncontrollable stare. A man with a ball cap was a sure turn-on. This was no boy, as she’d first thought. Hell no. He was a full-blooded male. He was sexy as he—

Wait… She remembered the first time she had heard that southern-boy drawl—and the last.

No way! This could not be him. She knew it was, but how could it be? She did her best to stomp down her attraction toward him as she looked at his suntanned, stubbled face.

With just one glance, she knew he wasn’t the same guy she’d professed her stupid young love to all those years ago, the guy she’d willingly given her heart to. There was a hardness about him now. If she had to take a guess, she knew exactly when that change had happened. A world of hurt and disappointment was in his guarded stare.

Just as in his younger days, he still could probably get away with pretty much anything, including murder, with those same sinful good looks. Damn Lawrence brothers. They were unnaturally blessed with the kind of good looks that made every woman in Patience, and the two surrounding counties, come running.

Jake.

That’s what most women call me, but judging by your pissed-off expression, you might have a few other choice names. He leaned a shoulder against one of the front porch columns and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

She forced her gaze from his perfect body and noticed all four porch columns looked freshly painted glossy white. Scanning the rest of the house, she could see—what in the world?—new, black, barnyard-style shutters. She’d expected peeling paint revealing exposed wood. Maybe she wasn’t going to have to spend a small fortune restoring the outer beauty of the aging house. How was this possible? The realtor overseeing the property for her hadn’t mentioned anything about doing repairs.

The clearing of a throat brought her back to the man. Oh yeah, Jake. She would figure out the whole house thing later. Right now she had bigger things to worry about. Like a sexy man glistening with sweat.

She could do this. He might not have been expected, but she was strong enough to take on big bad Jake Lawrence. Fortunately, she wasn’t the same impressionable teenage girl. Like him, she, too, had changed. Did you not see me back there?

Not sure what you’re talking about, sweetness.

She let the endearment go because he knew damn well what she was talking about. How could he not? I find that hard to believe since you rode my bumper for almost a mile. Do you know you ended up running me off the road? I could’ve been Ms. Edna for all you knew.

I knew you weren’t Edna. The old woman goes American all the way, not some foreign make. She wouldn’t be caught dead in what you poke around in.

Thought you didn’t know what I was talking about?

He smirked. If I’d wanted to run you off the road, I would have.

Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?

Just stating the obvious.

You could have killed me. She overexaggerated, but his nonchalance was irritating to say the least.

He lowered his head and kicked off some of the day’s mud covering most of his work boot. What was his deal? Did he make it a habit to go around torturing innocent women because he had the need for speed? Then again, he had a reputation for causing pain and suffering to people who didn’t deserve it.

Come on, Anna, he said after he was apparently satisfied with the look of his boot. You know your life wasn’t in any danger, and I sure as hell wasn’t close to ending it. A corner of his lip turned up.

Was that supposed to be a half smile, or was he trying to intimidate her? She refused to let either work.

Whether he was going for the intimidating tactic or not, it was the first time she had heard her name spoken by that mouth in eleven years. She had a plain name. Nothing special. He had no nicknames for her, except for the sweetness comment, nor did he draw out a syllable. Still, he said it like no other man she had ever been around. It took all her strength to stay composed and not get unnerved.

Do you know what you did to my car? she asked. For your information, your little stunt probably scratched the paint.

He only stood there, arms still crossed, looking as if he couldn’t give a damn. Are you hurt?

What? His lack of concern for her well-being pissed her off.

I asked if you were hurt.

No, I’m not hurt. Does that make it okay for you? She, too, crossed her arms, taking a strong stance against the man using his long legs to leave his position on the front porch and approach her. She expected to see a limp or even a wince of pain as he walked. There was no evidence of either. To a person who didn’t enjoy America’s pastime, he would look like a perfectly healthy man, a man who had never experienced excruciating pain. But she knew differently.

Even though she was a New York Sparks fan through and through, on a quiet night or lazy Sunday, she would find herself searching the channels for an Atlanta game. If Jake had played for Boston, there would be a lot more hostility going on right now. Supporting him was something she’d never admit to anyone.

It had been a clear July night. She’d ducked out of the office an hour early and curled up on the sofa, gripping the remote as she watched what was unfolding on her television screen.

As Jake rounded second base and headed to third, his childlike grin faded to stone. Even through the pain, his concern never wavered from the game. He headed home against the third-base coach’s instruction and came face-to-face with Carlos Lorenzo. The only hope Jake had at being safe and getting the assurance run was to charge the two-hundred-and-something-pound catcher.

Lorenzo successfully caught the ball bulleted from centerfield, planted both feet, and guarded his plate. Back in the day when there weren’t as many rules, Lorenzo was the type of catcher who didn’t mind being trampled over. Jake gave it all he had, and after colliding with the man, he collapsed on home plate, grabbing his right leg.

The television cut to commercial too quickly for her to comprehend what had happened. At first, the manager and his teammates tried to downplay his accident, but Anna knew in her gut it wasn’t going to be okay for Jake. She had cried for him that night—another thing that remained a secret.

He stopped an arm’s length away. She took a calming breath and stared at the magnificent man. He had all the classically charming looks. His hair was still russet, dripping with sweat and curling out from under his ball cap. A slight dimple was centered on a strong chin, and the blue eyes gone dark were unreadable and stared into her, weakening her stance.

He kept in shape probably out of habit more than anything. She imagined that if he rolled up his sleeves, he would reveal a farmer’s tan. That day’s grime covered his clothes and boots. He smelled of sweat and dirt, but under all that, she could faintly smell the cologne he’d applied that morning. The mixture of scents flowed to her through the gentle breeze provided by Mother Nature.

You don’t have anything broken. You’re not bleeding. Did you happen to hit your head?

She instantly reached to rub a palm across her forehead. No.

Then we can rule out a concussion, so I don’t see what the big deal is.

The big deal? You want to know what the big deal is? I was driving down a usually deserted road, my road, only to be run up on by a reckless jerk and forced off. That is the big frigging deal.

Sorry, but I’m not seeing how this is my fault—

I see you haven’t changed. She stopped him midsentence. She already knew he wasn’t going to cop to it. Taking responsibility for anything wasn’t his style.

What makes you think that? he asked, still sporting his I don’t give a damn expression.

You don’t care what you do or who you hurt, just so long as you get what you want.

She was showing him the backbone she hadn’t had all those years ago. Liza, her good friend from Linden, would’ve been proud. She’d worked hard for this backbone. It was nice to finally put it to good use. He couldn’t break her heart, run her off the road, or anything else he desired. He could take his charming looks and stick it. She wasn’t falling for it.

What are you looking at? She watched as his sapphire gaze ran up and down her body.

I’m just picturing your cute little ass. Like a switch being flipped on, his somewhat half grin spread out to a full-on smirk.

My what? Did he just comment on… You haven’t seen my b… Shut up, she scolded herself. She’d just walked into that one.

So you like the idea that I like your rear.

No. I couldn’t care less about what you like or don’t like for that matter. Now can we get back to the part where you apologize?

He ignored her. You don’t even want to know how I know you have a nice ass?

It was time to regroup and hold whatever comments to herself. Her backbone was getting her into all kinds of trouble.

You have some damn fine, sexy curves you used to not… His voice went low, and her stomach fluttered. By the way those jeans look from the front, I can picture the view from the back perfectly in my mind. Just fair warning, when you do actually turn away from me, because well…you have a history of running away, I will be staring a little too long for your comfort.

She remained focused on one thing at a time. But she’d had a good reason for leaving him. The day leading up to her departure still stuck with her. I will not be turning away until I hear an apology, so you’ll have to find some other willing woman to gawk at, because it won’t be me if I can help it.

Wanna bet?

I don’t have to prove anything to you.

Kinda figured you’d say that.

She didn’t realize the type of trouble she was in until it was too late to prevent his strong arms from gripping her shoulders and swinging her backside toward him.

Are you crazy? Let me go, Jake. She said everything her mind was screaming, but deep down she wanted to see if she still felt the same way in his arms. Over the years she’d wondered if what they’d had was real or just some hormonal crush, although crushes didn’t stick with a person for eleven years.

And it was just as she’d expected—intense. Wonderful. Her attraction and need for him were still almost too much to put in words. And given how tightly he held her, he had to feel something familiar too.

Still, feelings or not, she was not letting him off easy. She tried jabbing him with her elbow, but he anticipated the blow and stopped her midmotion.

He pulled her up hard against him, and her breath became ragged. She tried putting up a small fight, just for show purposes, only to be yanked back, fitting nicely against his rock-solid body—a body that even under these circumstances, she could appreciate.

Not a chance. Not only can I see your ass, I can feel it right…there. He placed a hand on her midsection and pulled her up as close as she could get, making them practically one person.

Her body settled at his thighs. Oh God. She could feel…him…there.

I have to say it feels better than it looks, if that’s even possible. His voice was low and thick as it vibrated against her exposed neck.

Even though the temperature was well above ninety degrees outside, with a heat index of a hundred, a chill slid down her spine, and lower. Wait. No, what she was feeling lower, like between-her-thighs lower, was not a chill. It was something she hadn’t felt in so many years she couldn’t remember the last time.

She was sure he could see the goose bumps popping up, revealing he had more than just a strong hold on her. He also had her reacting to him. She desperately tried not to tremble.

Her jumping heart now resided in her throat.

Anna wanted to demand that he release her immediately but was afraid her weakening knees wouldn’t hold her up on their own. As if sensing her near faint, he shifted one hand from her waist to trace his index finger up her neck. He was killing her insides.

It makes me wonder what other assets look and feel this damn good.

Please stop, she pleaded to keep up the pretense of really not wanting him.

She couldn’t think about much else. The only sounds she could make out were those of her pounding heart and Jake’s steady breathing in her ear. She could’ve been in Times Square, and it would’ve sounded all the same to her.

You sure that’s what you really want? From where I’m standing, you seem to be enjoy… She lost her ability to hear his whispering words.

The motions of his gentle finger gliding up, down, and up again left her in a trance. Her eyes involuntarily closed. She tilted her head to one side, giving him better access to the spot she hadn’t known could be so sensitive, only to be zapped back to reality.

She was held up by only her own strength and will. What the hell had just happened?

Just like that, his touch was gone, vaporized. A tingling sensation was the only remnant he left behind.

Her back was still to him. Wha…what in the hell are you doing? Had she just imagined his hard, muscular body holding her, touching her, making her want to cry out in need? No, of course not. It was real. It felt real.

You don’t look like the kind of woman who will have sex on the front lawn, but I can keep going if you’d like.

She took a second to pull herself together before turning to face him again.

There were probably other women in town who would agree to front-lawn sex, especially after feeling those hands on their bodies and seeing sweat running down his throat, pooling at the neckline of his shirt. Not her. When he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat beads running down his face, showing a well-maintained stomach, she felt nothing.

Get real. She’d just experienced firsthand how he could cause any woman to respond to a simple touch. Except that simple touch was lethal.

You’ll never know what kind of woman I am.

Mmmm. He acted as if he were mulling that over. You sure? I don’t think you can afford losing another bet to me. You still look pretty rattled after the first one.

It’s always a bet with you, Jake. Isn’t that how we got started in the first place? Her voice broke slightly. He was bringing up memories she’d been trying to shove aside for the past eleven years. Their entire history had started with a stupid bet. What did that say about their past relationship?

Lighten up. There’s no need to be hostile. I’m sorry. Okay?

She took a small, calming breath. Watch yourself. I haven’t touched on the hostility I can dish out. I wasn’t expecting to see you here now, but I will hash out our differences if that’s what you really want, or you can get the hell out of my way.

He stepped back and held his hands out as though he were surrendering. She turned from him, not bothering to give him another glance.

After opening her car door, she heard him holler, Nice license plate. She turned and glared while he stood there looking all sexy and cocky.

She didn’t have to look at what he was pointing at on the front of her car. Jake had always hated the Sparks, and he would ride her ass about it every chance he got.

Bring it on, Lawrence, she murmured.

He apparently didn’t hear her, but that was fine. She ensconced herself in her car and slammed the door. He stood in place with his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his face. What a jackass.

Why couldn’t he be a Boston Pythons fan? It would be so much easier to hate him if