Proof of Love: Arden's Glen Romance, #2

By C.M. Albert

Dez Wright bed hops because it's easier to let a man between her legs than into her heart. After the death of her high school sweetheart in a motorcycle accident that leaves Dez with a bum knee and a shattered heart, she throws all of her passion and energy into something that can't hurt her: her flourishing photography career.

Mitch Michaelson thought he was dead the day he wrestled a pissed-off shark snorkeling off the Hawaiian coast with a model whose name he can hardly remember. But the tryst in paradise cost him more than his arm; it destroyed his career as a famous iron sculptor. After years of intense therapy, Mitch is finally rebuilding a new life working with kids at the community center in his sleepy North Carolina town.

When Dez blows into Arden's Glen looking to take his picture for some do-gooder coffee table book, Mitch wants no part of it. He's put his glamorous past where it belongs and wants nothing more than to lay low, help the kids in his community, and be left alone. When fate steps in and brings the two together to help their friends and a troubled kid in need, will a couple of photographs and a magical one-night stand be all the proof of love they need? Or will their two stubborn hearts stay hell-bent on keeping their walls in place and playing it safe forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: FlowerWork Press
• Release date: Aug 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780997664249

C.M. Albert

USA Today bestselling author C.M. Albert writes heartwarming romances that are “sexy and flirty, sweet and dirty!” Her writing infuses a healthy blend of humor, high-heat romance, and most of all—hope. When not writing, or kid-wrangling with her handsome hubby, she’s either meditating, kayaking, reading, hugging a tree, or asleep. But first, coffee. #TonyStarkForever Join C.M. Albert online at: Website: www.colleenalbert.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cmalbertwrites FB Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ColleensAngels Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cmalbertwrites TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJpyfT6C Twitter: https://twitter.com/colleenmalbert Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/cmalbert BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/c-m-albert Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/cmalbertwrites Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/w5x4p1

Book preview

Prologue

WE ALL SAY we want unconditional love, but that’s because it’s a fucking rainbow-colored unicorn. It doesn’t exist. 

Real love, truly dropping every wall, letting go of all your defense mechanisms . . . now that’s some scary shit. Most of us don’t have the balls to do it.

I did once. He’s dead now.

I’ll never do it again. 

Chapter One – Dez

IYANKED AT the sloppy bun that refused to stay on top of my head, freeing my in-need-of-a-good-hair-wash tresses from the chaos my rubber band was unsuccessfully trying to wrangle. I let out a huffed breath and blew one of the limp waves of hair from my forehead.

That’s a wrap, I yelled, waiving my hands at the two artists I was photographing that afternoon. They were too busy welding pieces of their sculpture together to hear over the whooshing noise of their blowtorches. Oh, who am I kidding? I mumbled, lifting my Nikon back up to my eye. I zoomed in on the juxtaposition of soft skin as it disappeared into a scruffy-looking work glove, back-dropped by the fire and heat of yielding black metal.

I mentally pumped my fist after scanning the images I’d just captured. Bridgette and Inez were the perfect addition to my new coffee table book, Angels in Action. My gaze swept from the images on my camera to the two gorgeous women standing in front of me. They were living angels indeed, and I was grateful they’d said yes to this project. Their clout in the fine art industry, as well as Macy Cartwright and Nash Reilly’s connections, would surely make this book a huge success.

Ah, crap. It just dawned on me that I still hadn’t called Macy for help with the book’s PR strategy. I set my camera on the white oak table next to where I was working and grabbed my phone to send myself a quick reminder. 

I crammed my phone into my back pocket just as Inez turned off her blowtorch. She set it on the workbench and lifted the mask on her welding helmet, running an arm along her forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat that had gathered. She sauntered over while her partner, Bridgette, continued to solder her section of the intricate memorial statue they were working on.

Hey, Dez! I almost forgot you were here, you’re so quiet. Inez lifted a cold bottle of water to her lips and sighed gratefully. Did you get what you needed?

I nodded, grabbing my camera from the table to show off the gorgeous shots I’d taken. I flipped through the hundreds of images on the back of my digital camera until I found the one I was looking for. All the pictures featured in my book would be printed in oversized black and white images, and the way the women’s bodies arched toward one another in an almost haphazard heart shape was pure gold.

I love this image so much it may just have to be on the cover, I said, sighing dreamily as I stared at the image of the two women. I mean, look at you two! It practically sizzles. I might even Photoshop some angel wings onto the both of you.

The image formed in my mind. I could see a set of translucent wings behind each woman, a gentle reminder of how angelic our actions are when we’re in service to others. Oh yeah. This is gonna be amazing! I said, already lost in the editing phase. 

Inez peered closely at the back of the camera. Even through the small LCD display, there was no mistaking the fire created from both blowtorches bringing life to the sculpture, and from the diverse couple on the screen. If sex sells, this book will make the best-seller list! I grinned. It wasn’t an intentionally sensual shot, but the beads of sweat running down the women’s breastbones, the heat from the torches, and their contrasting frames coming together in concentration over their work was enough to make even the coldest heart melt.

Almost, I thought, a tight fist of pain reminding me that some hearts weren’t meant to melt. Some hearts were fine as they were.

Si, bebé. Es mi bella novia, Inez squealed, tearing me from my self-destructive thoughts. My Spanish was rusty at best, but I remembered enough from high school to make out the phrase beautiful girlfriend.

Yeah, she’s beautiful, I agreed, admiring Bridgette’s long strawberry blond hair that was pulled away from her face in two fish-tailed braids. You’re a lucky woman.

I took a pull from my lukewarm Pepsi, quenching none of my thirst after a long day of shooting in the heat of the warehouse. The cold outside would be a welcome relief, I thought as I massaged my aching knee with my free hand. 

Inez patted me on the back. Don’t worry, amiga. Your day will come soon enough.

I choked on my drink, nearly spitting it from my mouth. Yeah, no thanks. I’ll leave the fireworks to you. I’m too busy for that right now. Besides, I don’t do love. And you two clearly have the market on it.

Mm-hmm, Inez said as she slicked her long black hair into a ponytail. That’s what I said once, too.

What changed? I asked, more for polite conversation than true curiosity. I found myself twisting the metal ring from the Pepsi can while I waited for her answer. 

That damned redheaded angel is what changed. I had no intention of settling down. I enjoyed the perks of being an artist, if you know what I mean, Inez said, winking. Then Bridgette walks into my life, asking for one good deed after another to help get a youth center off the ground. What could I say? Fuck off? Inez chuckled. Took her a year to wear me down, though. But damn if she didn’t break through all my barriers and reasons why not, chiseled them away one at a time till there was nothing left but us.

I blushed when I saw the way Inez was staring at Bridgette, not because I was a prude—that sure as hell wasn’t the case—but because it was so openly raw and vulnerable. I shivered.

As if sensing her gaze, Bridgette looked up. I knew that even from behind the darkened lens of her welding helmet, her eyes were zeroed in on Inez. I quickly exchanged my soda for my camera and captured the heated stance her body assumed as she gazed across the room at her partner, her blowtorch still firing by her side.

Damn! That was my cue to leave. I packed up my portable supplies and grabbed my lighting, eager to get back to Tranquility and steal a quick shower and maybe even a nap before the dinner party that Celeste and Egan were throwing tonight. As if summoned by magic, my cell phone rang. I didn’t need to look down to know who it was. 

Hey, Celeste! I was just thinking about you.

In a good way I hope? she teased.

Always. I’m heading out from my photo shoot in just a minute. Hang on, I said, covering the phone. I gave Inez a quick side hug and told her, I’ll call you later and send some proofs over for your approval next week.

I threw my backpack over my shoulder and waved goodbye as I stepped out of the warm warehouse and into the frigid afternoon air. The chill nearly took my breath away, and Celeste must have heard me gasp.

What is it? she asked.

Damn it’s cold for having no snow on the ground. Isn’t this supposed to be the south? I grumbled, making my way to my rental car.

She laughed. You never know! Maybe we’ll get a Christmas miracle this year and we’ll get a light dusting. Wouldn’t that be fun!

Uh, yeah, says you . . . the girl who doesn’t live in New York anymore and isn’t buried in snow six months out of the year.

Oh stop, you grouch! You’re here for the next few weeks anyway. It would be snow much fun to be snowed in together.

I groaned, throwing my work equipment into the back of the trunk. Did you really just do that?

Celeste snorted. I may have.

Have you been drinking again, Celeste? I mocked, knowing damn well she had just gotten through working with clients herself and wouldn’t anyway, all things considered. 

No, just happy. I had an amazing energy session this morning with the group of new Reiki students who are here for the retreat. I can’t wait for you to join me tomorrow to work with them on their Manifest Your Miracle boards. These women are so in tune, Dez. You’ll be blown away, Celeste gushed. I think I need to go get grounded!

Uh, you think? I said, laughing at the natural bliss that was evident in Celeste’s energy even over the phone. Hey, do you need me to pick up anything at the market on the way home?

I made a right out of the Vega Farm and nearly creamed into the black wooden fence that surrounded Inez’s property after the loud blare of a horn almost ran me off the road.

Fuck!

I looked in the rearview mirror as I straightened the wheel and somehow, by the grace of God, avoided the water ditch alongside the gravel road. I couldn’t make out the driver’s face, but the old Jeep Cherokee in candy apple red was hard to miss. The thing was a tank compared to my rental car, and it was bearing down on me.

I could hear Celeste’s voice somewhere in the distance as I pulled over onto the first shoulder I could find. Her voice was coming from under the seat, still asking if I was okay. I placed my car in park and threw a middle finger up at the male driver, whom I could barely make out behind tinted windows as he drove past me down the isolated country road.

Where the hell did he come from?

My hands shook as I followed the charger cord and finally located my phone, which had wedged itself between the passenger seat and the cup-holder thingy. Celeste, you still there? I asked, letting my breath out for the first time.

Oh my God, Dez, what just happened?

Oh, some jerk just flew around that corner coming out of the Vega Farm. You know how hard it is to see with all those trees. It was perfectly clear though when I pulled out.

Are you okay? she asked.

Yeah, I’ll make it, I laughed, though my heart was still rapping its knuckles against my rib cage and calling me an outright liar. Fine! I mumbled to myself. My heart’s racing like crazy, but I’ll be okay.

I’ll send you some clearing energy from here. You just go ahead and come on back to Tranquility. I don’t want you driving any more if you’re that rattled.

I’ll be fine, Mom, I chuckled. Besides, I want to make my fall cider sangria for the party tonight, so I need to pick up some supplies at the market. Need to run by the ABC store, too, for the ginger brandy.

That sounds heavenly! Celeste sighed.

You’d love it, I agreed, setting the phone in its cradle. I looked both ways and saw nothing coming, so I pulled back out onto the road. Hey, you never answered my question. Need anything at the market?

Well, Egan is marinating the pork tenderloin now and it’ll go in the slow cooker. Everything else is pretty easy. Oh, can you grab extra glue sticks? We’re running low and I don’t want to run out during tomorrow’s session.

Heaven forbid, I teased, but my heart was lighter after our call. By the time I made it to the market, it had returned to its normal pace.

I grabbed a handbasket and made my way to the produce section, quickly selecting a bag of red apples and a couple Bartlett pears. I’d been up since six a.m., and that nap was looking more and more enticing. I groaned as I headed toward the office supply aisle, daydreaming about the comfortable Tempur-Pedic bed waiting for me back at Tranquility while calculating how long it would take to make the sangria and get dressed.

I’d just decided I had time for a catnap when I slammed into a man rounding the corner, his arms full of fresh flowers. He dropped them to the floor to steady me, his hand clasping my upper arm.

Are you okay? he asked at the exact moment I yelled, Hey! Watch where you’re going!

I took a step back and rubbed my upper chest where our bodies had collided. It was then that I realized his arms hadn’t been full of flowers, just one arm had—because he was missing the other one. Oh, I said, feeling like a complete jackass. I’m sorry. That was my bad. I must’ve been daydreaming.

No, it was clearly my fault, and you obviously thought so, too, from your knee-jerk reaction. Don’t go changing your pissed-off tune just because you notice my arm is missing, the man clipped out, bending over to scoop up his flowers.

I squatted down next to him, setting my own basket on the floor as I helped him pull his large assortment of fall foliage back together. That’s not exactly what happened, I said as I scooped up sunflowers, mums, and roses in various shades of yellow, orange, and red, an unexpected pink snapdragon peeking out at me. I quickly handed them back to him, surprised when he nestled them in the crook of his arm and turned to walk away.

What? That’s it? I asked, not understanding why I was suddenly infuriated.

He turned to look at me, his dark brown eyes piercing my façade. He ran his gaze up my body, taking in every inch of my tight black jeans, body-hugging tank top, and black leather moto jacket. Not from around here, are you? he asked, a grimace lifting his sensual-looking mouth into a half-smirk. What more do you want? How about, ‘Have a nice day now, ya hear?’ With that, he turned and stormed off to the nearest register.

What a complete jerk! I fumed as I made my way down the aisle, threw every last glue stick into the basket, and wove my way to the checkout lanes. Luckily, Mr. Chip-on-his-shoulder was gone by the time I got there since I pit-stopped in the candy aisle first. A girl needed chocolate when she was this good and mad.

Why I was so discombobulated, though, I wasn’t sure; but a knot had lodged itself in my chest, and I knew I’d be working out instead of napping this afternoon. Maybe go for a jog around the lake to clear my head, if my knee cooperated.

After checking out, I made my way to the parking lot. I’d taken one step toward my car when the loud blare of a horn honked at me for the second time that day, making me jump back onto the sidewalk. I looked up just in time to see the same candy apple red Cherokee that had tried to run me off the road earlier. It slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting me again—this time while I was walking.

I’d had it with being nice today. What the fuck is wrong with you? I hollered, throwing my middle finger in the air again at the driver. Jesus, I muttered as I stomped around his SUV to get to my car. That guy has a death wish.

As I walked by, I turned and sneered at him, even though I still couldn’t make out his face through his tinted windows. My heart thudded as the glass slowly rolled down and I was once again face-to-face with the man from the market.

We need to stop meeting like this, he said. 

Chapter Two – Dez

DESPITE THE NERVES causing my hands to shake, I made it back to Tranquility in record time. As I plopped my bags onto the kitchen island, I heard footsteps coming up the back stairs. I turned to see Celeste as she entered the kitchen, her cheerful disposition drooping when she took a good