Exposure: A Carefree Novel, #1

By Leslie Ray

A New Beginning

Julia Hawthorne never envisioned trading her Metro Pass for a small town, but inheriting a house she never knew existed might just be the new start she's been craving. And what better place for a fresh start than the coastal town of Carefree, SC. A little sand, a little water, and a whole of lot peace and quiet seem like the perfect kind of carefree living she needs.

 

A Complicated Connection

Miles Scott was born to serve, but when a failed mission leaves him medically unable to serve his country, returning home to Carefree seemed like his next best option. A plan that was working perfectly until a slight misunderstanding with the new girl in town leaves him with more than just a bruised ego. Julia is more than a feisty outsider; she has a dark link to his past. Forced to face the truth, Miles must choose between exposing his scars or risk losing his future. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie Ray
• Release date: Jan 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393778448

Leslie Ray

Hi! If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m Leslie Ray, a small-town contemporary romance author. Born and raised in the South, I center my stories around all the wonderful memories of growing up in a small town in the southeast. When I’m not writing, you can find me hanging out with my homesteading husband, our two daughters (who mostly love each other), and our array of animals. When I’ve had enough of the sibling rivalry or the husband’s canning, gardening, and chicken plucking, I love to mow. I can do amazing plotting spending hours on a mower. 

Book preview

Chapter One

Windows down, hair blowing in the wind, Julia Hawthorne let out the breath she had been holding for the past eight hours. Crossing the Beaufort County line into her new life, she could already feel the humid, salty sea air destroying any semblance of order in her hair, but she didn’t care. That was the point, after all, of driving three states to the Podunk coastal town of Carefree, South Carolina, wasn’t it? To be carefree. At least, that was her hope.

So far, Julia felt anything but carefree.  

Born and raised in South Kensington, a Maryland suburb just outside of DC, she couldn’t remember the last time she had driven this far in the continental US without seeing a stop light or an interstate. Sure, she had experienced plenty of vast, wide-open space in her career, but rarely on her home turf. No, home was the bustling city streets. The crowded Metro after a long day. The city noise she had always found oddly comforting. However, that had all changed after her last flight home.

This is home now, her conscience not so gracefully reminded her.

Maybe not forever. Maybe not even for long. But thanks to her recent inheritance, it was home enough until she could figure out what came next.  

Twenty-four miles from the interstate, the moss-covered trees thinned, revealing the most majestic scenery. Like the smooth scales of a serpent, the Harbor River snaked its way through the salt marsh, ebbing and flowing its way to the sea. Instinctively, her right hand rested on the Nikon sitting in the passenger seat, her index finger absently tracing the shutter release. It was moments like this, with mother nature shining in an abundance of beauty, Julia was thankful for her career as a freelance photographer.

By the ripe age of thirty-three, she had set foot on all seven continents. Mostly thanks to National Geographic, Julia had experienced the world from every angle. From the pale colossal glaciers to the vibrant colors of the rain forest, she had watched life flourish in its natural habitat. The Amazon would always hold a special place in her heart, so vivacious and full of life. Even the gentle rustle of leaves on a summer breeze would send a tingle of excitement through her every nerve ending.

She felt the same tingle of anticipation now as she slowed her Prius to a stop. The first sign of civilization unfolding before her.

Waiting for the light to turn green, she took in the short, stumpy buildings of the town around her. It felt much like a lost colony, appearing in the middle of nowhere.

Look at that, I guess there really is a town out here after all, she whispered to her camera.

Glancing at the glass store fronts, one by one she read the shop names, unable to suppress her sigh. Carefree Cleaners. Carefree Shipping. Carefree Curls. The only thing missing were the carefree people all walking around in Hawaiian shirts and matching Toms.

Moving again at the brisk twenty-five miles per hour posted, Julia followed her phone’s GPS to the address she had entered after crossing the South Carolina state line two hours earlier.

You have arrived, the middle-aged computer-generated voice announced her destination.  

Pulling into an empty spot, she opened the door and could have kissed the pavement beneath her feet. Her back was aching, her knees stiff. It was quite possible her body hurt worse from doing absolutely nothing for eight solid hours, than a two-hour CrossFit workout. And based on the reflection staring back at her from the glass store front, her exterior hadn’t faired any better than her interior. Her messy bun looked more like two teacup poodles fighting over a ball. Her favorite Capitals shirt, complete with Cheetos stains was so wrinkled it looked like she had stolen it straight from the bottom of her favorite right wing, T.J. Oshie’s gym bag. She was a five-foot-seven-inch hot mess of an out-of-towner.

Cheers to being carefree.

Stepping into the coffee shop, she suppressed a laugh when the barista greeted her from behind the counter. Welcome to The Carefree Grind. How may I serve you today?

It sounded more like the title track off the latest pop album than a coffee shop.

Ordering her usual, Julia grabbed the cartoonish town maps off the counter, and cozied up in a chair by the window. Hidden by the tinted glass and the bright sun reflecting on the exterior of the building, she watched as locals went about their everyday lives. Her heart melted when a group of preschoolers emerged from the police station across the street, each one proudly wearing their shiny golden junior police badge sticker.

How bad could the town be if teachers paraded their students down the sidewalk in single file lines?

Three weeks ago, she’d never even heard of Carefree. She would bet no one outside of a forty-mile radius had heard of the town either. Then, on a cold, gray morning, she and her uncle John had arrived at the estate lawyer’s office, and listened as the lawyer read off her father’s parting wishes. She had been stunned, as the lawyer read off an address she had never known existed, only to remember there was a vast array of things she had never known about her father. It wasn’t his fault, just a product of a lifetime career with the CIA.  

For a single father who had made a life in the military and the likes thereof, they had been surprisingly close. Maybe not close enough to tell her about this house, but she took comfort knowing he would have been very selective when choosing the location of what she suspected was his own private safe house. He never would have chosen a town that wasn’t an absolutely safe place to up and relocate her to at the drop of a hat.

Comforting or not, she still wasn’t quite ready to accept this new life. There was a lot she was leaving behind. And a lot she was running away from.

Julia unfolded the map and scanned the highlights. There was a drawing of a sailboat in the marina, a tiny figure in a striped shirt waving from its deck. Gilligan or Waldo, she wasn’t sure. Several restaurants lined the waterfront, along with a park. Spaced evenly throughout the streets, animations depicted all the local governments: police, fire, library, and schools. A historic courthouse towered over the town square. It was all relatively familiar given the time she had spent scouring Google and the town’s website. Their webmaster was had actually done a great job.

Engrossed in the map, Julia was vaguely aware of the bell chiming above the door as patrons came and went, signaling the shop’s popularity. Glancing up from the glossy paper, she was surprised to find the seat next to her now occupied. Separated only by a small table, she felt a tingle deep in her toes at her new tablemate. He was beautiful. Striking, with an edge of mystery, like a rumbling storm sheathed in sinewy muscle.

Well, as far as she could tell from his profile anyway, because that was all she was getting. His square, firm jaw was covered in the slightest hint of stubble. His biceps the perfect combination of smooth and taut. His strong hands slightly work-roughened and...twitchy.

Very twitchy.

No man is perfect.  

Averting her eyes, Julia tried to ignore his restless movements and the tiny prickle against her skin, warning her to be cautious.  

But he’s so pretty, her inner teenage girl whined, begging her to lean a little closer. Close enough to breathe in the masculine scent of woods and hard work.

Gorgeous as he may be, that little voice warning her that something was amiss grew louder. Something was off about this man. Something unnerving. More than a tick, she watched out of her peripheral the erratic way he moved, the way he couldn’t sit still. Like he was struggling, and failing, to contain the nervous energy. Maybe she was projecting her own anxiety, but something about him seemed almost...dangerous.

This is practically Mayberry.

She was projecting and it wasn’t healthy. Just because she had lost all the men she considered protectors in her life didn’t mean the world was out to get her. It was just her now and she could take care of herself. She was smart, strong, and resourceful. The world hadn’t broken her yet, and she wasn’t about to let it.

From behind the counter, the barista called out a number, effectively drawing the man from his chair. Taking a deep breath, Julia forced herself to calm and focus on the present. She was starting over. This was a nice, quiet town. The man next to her was not an axe murderer.

Glancing up, she barely caught sight of the nine-mil tucked in the back of his jeans before he turned, heading back her way. Instinctively, her eyes studied the surroundings the way her father had always taught her.

Assess the situation. Identify possible threats.

Dropping her gaze, Julia took in the cover of the magazine he had been reading. Her heart kicked up a notch at the desolate, sand washed surrounding. The buildings destroyed by mortars. The long barrel of an assault rifle at the hands of a marine. The bold font reading, SNIPER.

The gorgeous, twitchy man in her supposed safe little town was reading a sniper magazine and packing heat.

Feeling a wave of anxiety pitch in her gut, Julia quickly gathered her things. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything. Either way, she wasn’t sticking around to find out how dangerous this man was.

No way.

THREE TIMES, JULIA had driven up and down the same stretch of highway. Three times she failed to find the damn house. Frustrated and fresh out of patience, she pulled the car onto the shoulder, grabbing the copy of her father’s will. The address matched perfectly to the one she had entered in her GPS but there was no house in sight.

Dammit!

Camera in hand, she stepped out of the car into the afternoon sun, the loose gravel crunching beneath her feet. Unfolding the map she had inadvertently taken in her need to be anywhere other than the coffee shop, she wasn’t surprised to find her hidden lane wasn’t listed on the map. It was a highlight of the town’s attractions, after all, not a real map of two-lane highways leading to God knows where.

Just as well, she had everything she needed in the palm of her hand. One stroke of the shutter release and all her angst would melt away. Every time she brought the camera to her eye was like a new adventure. A new world taking shaping, full of inspiration. A world she could transform. Enhance. It was her safe place, her sanctuary.  

Placing the viewfinder to her left eye, she adjusted the zoom. The landscape was beautiful. Serene. Tall spindles of grass swayed gently in the soft breeze. The road, worn and faded, seemed to go on for miles, like a highway to infinite possibility. Snapping a few shots, she was just finding her groove when the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires pulled her back to the present. Certainly, whomever it was, assumed she had broken down. Dropping the lens, she turned just in time to see the driver’s side door of the truck open.

Great Scott. Her mind panicked as Mr. Sniper Mag approached.

Clutching the strap of her camera tight, Julia cursed beneath her breath when he stopped beside her driver’s door. His stance was easy, yet dominant. His lips pressed into a tight half smile. Perfect. She was going to be murdered in broad day light, in the middle of Nowhereville, with absolutely no one to miss her, while the Glock her father had given her for her twenty-first birthday sat nicely tucked away in the glove compartment.

Afternoon, his deep voice was smooth, calming. In a different time and place, with a different man, the silky sound may have lured her in, but not here. Not now.  

Hello. She kept her tone even, tight.

You’re not from around here, are you?

The simple question sent a shiver across her skin, while a montage of crime dramas flickered through her mind like a black and white reel. Weren’t those the exact words every TV serial killer used? A proclamation that they knew the female was alone and would not be missed right away. With his eyes hidden behind reflective aviators, she had no way of reading his intentions, anticipating his next move. Nor would she be able to pick him out of a line up...if she survived. When she didn’t answer, he continued on, his lips twitching into a sinister smile, Long way out to have your car give out. I can give you a hand or a ride back to town, if you would like?

Lifting his right hand, he began to scratch at the opposite bicep, reminding her of the jerky way he had twitched in the coffee shop. There was definitely something off about his behavior. His attempt to rescue a damsel in distress may have been a redeeming quality, if not for the bizarre scratching.

There’s nothing wrong with my car and if you’ll excuse me, I was just headed on my way. Julia quickly responded, averting her eyes slightly. She wasn’t dumb enough to take them off him completely, but he wasn’t the only one who could hide their intentions.

With what she assumed was a puzzled look – she couldn’t be sure thanks to his shades - he peered into the car before raising his head back to her. She watched as the man’s hand lifted, scratching at his arm just like he had in the coffee shop. Whatever it was, he looked like a junkie who had the itch. 

So where are you headed?

Clearly, he was not interested in moving out of her way.

Feeling her panic welling to nuclear, Julia gripped the strap of her camera tighter. She would have the element of surprise, and just maybe, if there were a God, it would give her the nanosecond she needed to slip into her car and get the hell out of Dodge. Bracing for whatever was about to come next, she pulled back, cringing at the thought of breaking her camera, and swung full force, hitting her target square in the nuts.

Mother... Words strangled by pain, he crumpled to the ground, giving her just enough time and space to slip into her car.

Gravel flying, tires spinning, she didn’t look back.  

Chapter Two

W ow, you look terrible !

It wasn’t exactly the greeting Miles Scott wanted the moment he walked through the back door of his sister’s diner, but he couldn’t exactly disagree. If he looked anywhere close to the way he felt, he damn sure wasn’t winning a beauty pageant today.

Love you too, Alley Kat.

Seriously, what the hell happened to you? Your truck was gone when I got up. Kat, his older sister by only two minutes, slid a glass of sweet tea across the counter to him.

He needed something stronger than tea, but that would have to wait until he was off duty. Being Chief of the Carefree PD had its perks, but drinking on the clock wasn’t one of them. Llamas are bastards and women are damn crazy, that’s what!

Huh, I thought they were kidding about your high speed hoof chase down Main Street, Kat laughed as any loving sister would when her brother’s day sucked worse than her own. Sucks to be you.  

Sucked was putting it mildly. It had quite possibly been the worst day of his civilian life and it was only two in the afternoon. Hell, fifty percent of his military career had been easier than this day.

The morning had started with a three AM call from one of his sergeants about an escapee on the run. A four-legged, hoofed escapee who was mean as a snake. Honest to God, if someone would have told him two years ago, when he was forced to give up military and come home, that he would be chasing a llama down Main Street, he would have laughed in their face.

Well, he could check that one off his bucket list.

For three