Imperfect Fairytale

By Kaymarie Cassbry

Reeling from the death of her father, Taylor Burco stepped back from the world, delving deep into the most basic of life's necessities while navigating the grieving process.
Just as she began to heal, a chance encounter changed the course of her world. Unbeknownst to her, the encounter had been carefully orchestrated for unscrupulous reasons, and she became entangled in a heated romance that left her elated and incredibly vulnerable.
One day, the true reasons for the encounter were accidentally revealed. The discovery shattered her, nearly destroying her while stripping her of the rose colored glasses she wore. With a vicious willpower born from an inner anger at being unable to control her desires, she retreated from life yet again.
This time though, she instituted the strictest of rules, building an impenetrable wall around her heart, soul and the appetites that had brought about her downfall. If she followed her plan, she was positive she would be safe from ever falling for a man again.
Then, as life would have it, an incredibly enticing obstacle was thrown into her path; Cross D'Angelo. Despite fighting tooth and nail against it, he set her very being on fire.
What happens when stubbornness and determination to lead a life of celibacy meets a Fate disguised as a sinfully gorgeous man?
In your face reality and a whole lot of hot and heavy fireworks.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781684746774

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Tay wrapped her hands around the solid, corded muscles of biceps that trembled ever so slightly under her touch. The feeling beneath her palms was wicked.

She sighed softly then opened her eyes to a deep, velvety blackness. Confused, reaching up, silken locks whispered along the back of her hand as her fingers skimmed over a stubbled, masculine chin. The chin turned and soft lips tenderly kissed her palm just before a moist tongue darted out, tasting her. The sensation pulled a hot, bewildered moan from her throat and sent fire licking between her legs.

It had been so long since she’d felt that fire. Shit, it had been eons since anything had made her moan.

A distant, muffled voice tugged at her attention. Get up, Taylor.

Get up?  No. Nope. Not gonna happen. She wasn’t about to go anywhere. She’d paid her dues, suffered the torture of being alone long enough.

Trying to figure out who'd spoken, if only to thoroughly berate them for interrupting her moment, the voice was instantly forgotten the second those lips started coasting slowly across her palm. They wandered over the heel of her hand and feather light across the tender skin of her wrist. Moving slowly, past the crook of her arm to continue over her shoulder, then up towards her neck, each new touch connected with the previous, forming a blazing trail of sensation that sent erotically charged trembles coursing through her limbs.

When the lips reached her cheek, she turned quickly, seeking them. The simple thing of a man kissing her deeply, morphing her into a pliable pile of heated, sexually charged mushiness, was finally within her reach, and she was all for it.

To her dismay, her lips found nothing. Blinking rapidly, trying to flush away the dark, she worked frantically to see what she couldn't feel.

Where are you? She wanted the kiss that belonged to her!  What madness was this?  What kind of game was he playing?  Her befuddled brain pulled a single, rational thought together. Who was he?  Who are you? she voiced, annoyed, intrigued.

Unexpectedly the lips touched hers tenderly. The passions she’d suppressed years ago suddenly broke free in a decadent whoosh, unwilling to remain tethered in smothering darkness any longer. Desire, buried beneath hard learned life lessons, flooded her body, overpowering and just fuck me welcome. With a moan she tried pulling him to her, desperately seeking what she wanted.

The world shifted, lips disappearing, replaced with soft male murmurings that caressed her ears. Struggling to understand what he said, the words scattered, drifting away like wisps of fog.

The distant voice cut in, persistent, commanding. Come on Taylor, get up. It tugged at her, pulling her away from him as comprehension skirted just beyond her grasp.

No! She searched the impenetrable darkness. Something wasn’t right. Why can’t I see you?

…have to go, the voice claimed.

Go?  Who?  Where? Bewilderment spun in her head only to be quickly replaced with vicious licks of anger. Damn you, I don’t want to go! she growled. You… you… you can’t leave. Please, please don’t leave me alone. She tried to shout, but the words refused to solidify and dissipated into the nothingness.

Those feather soft lips swiftly claimed hers again. Her throat constricted with untold emotions as she embraced the inevitable. It was time… time to let go, time to become whole.

Have to go… He slipped away, his touch gone.

Wrestling against the dark, she reached out, tried to wrap her arms about him, pull him back to her, become whole again. Scooping air, the loneliness she’d endured for so long rushed in, eager to fill the open void, reclaim its rightful place.

Molten lava being forced down her throat would have hurt less.

The thought of being alone again was almost too much to bear. For the briefest of seconds, she'd felt connected, whole. She had to find him again. He was the one she needed, the one that could break down the walls that surrounded her very being.

Trying to move, her limbs were unresponsive, but her ability to scoff at herself was totally available.

The one she needed. Utter rubbish!  Satan and Jesus had a better chance of going on a double date before she’d allow another male to enter her world again.

Bitter tasting loss coated her thoughts. Frustration clogged her throat. Growling low, she was angered by the fact that for the briefest of moments, at the softest of kisses, he'd made her feel again.

As her fingers curled convulsively about an unidentifiable softness, a soul-wrenching pain engulfed her heart. How dare he reopen a part of her she'd eradicated, then leave her alone with the aftermath of its rebirth. That arrogant son of a bitch, leaving her stuck in a sea of confusion and hurt.

The distant voice shouted at her. Get up, Taylor!

Her brain floundered as she fought to shake the hazy black fog surrounding it.

CHAPTER  1

Taylor Marie Burco, get your ass up. You’re going to be late.

Her best friend Twink was screeching from directly above her head. The sound pierced the sleep fog like an ax, shooting Tay up and into a sitting position so fast they almost smashed skulls. Disoriented, she fumbled around, clutching at the red and black down blanket wrapped about her.

Bed. She was in bed. Awake. Alone. It had been a dream. He had been a dream. Her heart sank like a cement shoe clad snitch. How dare he…

What’s your issue woman? she barely managed to croak past the irritating disappointment that clung to her vocal cords.

What were you dreaming about, Sunshine? Twink snickered back.

Tay pfft’d, more in frustration than anger. For some reason, her damn subconscious had decided it was going to lay her inner soul bare, making her dreams of late most unwelcome. Way too often now her shut eye was being tormented by less than subtle subliminal messages concerning her darkest desire. She didn’t need to be reminded over and over of the one thing she adamantly refused to relinquish her iron fisted control over; letting free said dark desires.

To do that would mean allowing a man into her life again, allow him into the most inner part of her in more ways than one. She’d been there before, and the outcome was unacceptable, utterly absurd and just flat out self-destructive.

Taking a few moments to settle her mind, working to ignore the way her body hummed annoyingly with curiosity and unwanted sexually charged debauchery, she pfft’d again.

She didn’t need a man. Not now. Not ever.

By the moans, you should have snapped awake smiling and satisfied, not all bitchy and gnarly, Twink’s wide hazel eyes sparkled beneath her short, black and blonde streaked bangs. That one sounded like a doozey, she flounced off towards Tay’s walk-in closet.

Untangling from the comforter, Tay tamped back the lingering, heated residuals of her dream. It was most definitely not the way she wanted to start her day. Maybe if she went back to sleep, allowed her dream man to merrily fuck her into oblivion, her subconscious would let the hell up, give her a break.

Lazily rubbing her eyes, she nixed the idea, having learned long ago the futility of wanting something so foolish and unobtainable. If nothing else, she was a fast learner and there were some lessons she would not be repeating.

Slipping from beneath the warm covers, swinging her long legs over the bedside, she toed the plush, maroon carpeted floor gingerly. After stretching the kinks from the lean limbs of her five foot seven inch body, she swiped aside wisps of her long, wavy, strawberry blonde hair, then settled back onto her hands, eyeing the closet expectantly.

Within seconds Twink emerged, sporty a cheeky grin.

I’m not gonna talk about it, Tay shot out while pointing a perfectly manicured finger in a stop gesture. She wished she had never mentioned her dreams to Twink.

Twink pouted, pushing out her bottom lip. Why won’t you ever talk about them?

Because I’d rather not, Tay stretched again to cover her irritation. Rehashing the damn thing wouldn’t make it real or help the heated ache between her legs. She touched her lips gently, then angrily swiped at them. Anyway, I barely remember them after I wake up, she white lied.

Spoilsport, Twink frowned. You are seriously pathetic. Come on woman, you’re so damn horny that ya dream about it. Don’t you think it’s time to get back on that bus?

No, Tay replied firmly while thoughts of her ex, Brent, sent sharp pains stabbing through her gut. The last time I did, I became road pizza. She grimaced. First the dream, then thoughts of Brent. Oh, happy start to the day.

With a resigned snort, Twink headed back to the closet. Yeah, I get it, she stopped, becoming serious quickly. But you’re gonna have to get back on someday, chicky. Disappearing, she began wailing out lyrics from Superfreak.

No, I’m not, Tay rubbed her tummy. Plastic is a wonderful substitute, she confessed to the air. It doesn’t talk back. Or use you.

Thoughts turning to Brent, she grunted. The man had been a human wrecking machine. Between his rock-hard body and his smooth talking, among other talents, tongue, he’d played her like an orchestra maestro. Sucking her into a relationship, he’d spit her out, shredding her dignity and self-esteem like the human Cuisinart he was.

Sadly, and with painful reluctance, she had to admit she’d loved him, which was probably the one reason it had taken her almost a year to catch onto his game of conquer the rich chick. It wasn’t her he’d wanted. Nope. It had been her rather substantial inheritance, the one she and her brother Craig had received after the death of their dad in a car accident.

Shit, Craig!  Had she spotted his truck in the driveway last night or had she been dreaming that too?

Rushing to the window, she pushed aside the dark red, Roman shade. Yup. There it was, parked in the driveway; his male overcompensation, jacked-up, metallic blue Dodge pick-up. Pleased to see the Dodge, there was an underlying feeling of dread inside her. A visit from Craig was always welcome, but for reasons beyond her grasp, she felt leery, on edge about this one.

Hey, quiet down, she hissed towards the closet, letting the shade drop. Craig’s home and I’d prefer it if you didn’t wake him up. She flinched at a yowl. Seriously Twink, stop.

The howling ceased. Shirts began to spew forth from the closet like some demonic doorway to hell upchucking the clothing of its recently swallowed victims. Instinctively ducking away from a canary yellow, cotton missile, Tay watched it land on the bed beside her as she sat down.

Mary Ellen Madison, she dodged another piece of flying clothing. Cut the shit.

Twink emerged holding an orange and grey button up shirt between the tips of her fingers.

Really?  When did you get this awful thing? Scowling, she tossed the offending piece of clothing onto the floor before diving back into the closet. I know Craig’s home, she called out. I got a text that he hooked up with Barbara Rivers already, her face appeared. Rumor is they did it on the counter at her dad's lumberyard.

Like hearing about her brother’s over the top sex life was on her list of things to do. That’s disgusting. Was there enough brain bleach in the world to erase that image from her head?  I do not want to hear about it.

Jealous he’s getting laid in real life? Twink appeared, slipping a thin, black leather belt about her waist. What’s wrong with talking about it anyway? She fished through the clothing, choosing a bright red tank top. Replacing her own shirt with it, she posed in front of the mirror like a runway model, admiring the way it clung to her curvy parts like a second skin. If you weren’t such a prude, you’d be all over getting screwed on a counter somewhere.

Let me re-iterate…yuck. That is wrong on so many levels. Tay swallowed her disgust while pawing through the pile, pulling out a mint green t-shirt. The front sported a dark green, happy faced frog wearing a gold crown and Looking for my Prince written in gold, cursive letters beneath him. Anyway, I’m not a prude, she grabbed a pair of denim shorts. I’m picky, she finished under her breath.

I heard that and picky is an understatement. Twink waggled a finger. You, my dear, are hornier than hell. If you don’t get a piece soon, you’re gonna implode. Or explode. I don’t know which way that goes. Anyway, she shrugged, riffling through perfumes bottles. I can’t stand that whorey little twat. If it’s true, I’d love to be able to ask her how the splinters in her ass are doing just to see her face fall.

Are you serious?  You want me to find out where my brother is… Tay stopped as the bedroom door swung open.

CHAPTER 2

Where your brother is what? Craig’s shaggy blonde head popped in, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling way too brightly for so early in the morning.

Busted, Twink gave Tay the ‘go ahead, ask’ look.

Ever heard of knocking, asshole? Tay grabbed a pillow and threw it. What if we were sleeping?

Easily dodging the pillow, he entered. With the racket you guys are making? He openly appraised Twink. That shirt looks good on you, Twinky. The slow wink he bestowed upon her would have wet most girls’ panties. Having grown up with him and immune to his man-whore charms, Twink stuck her tongue out and turned away. Now, what about me? he turned to his sister.

Nothing, she huffed, receiving a sassy grin from Twink. What time did you get in last night?

Yeah, Craig, Twink piped up. Do any late night rendezvousing in the lumberyard?

The moral gene having completely skipped him, Craig took the question without a blink. Damn, info still moves fast around here, huh?

Twink clapped her hands happily, delighted at the rumor confirmation.

Craig chuckled. I don’t miss the small town rumor mill, that’s for sure.

Tay caught his quick, sideways glance. Having been a firsthand witness to her experience with said rumor mill, he fully understood her desire for anonymity. Her break-up with Brent had been ugly, the ensuing gossip storm insane. Everywhere she’d gone, people had been silent grenades, barely able to contain their curiosity. Everywhere Craig had gone, he’d been bombarded with that curiosity. His reputation meant nothing to him, but hers he was bound, by the unwritten sibling law, to protect. It had been a tough time for them both.

Obviously, it’s not a rumor, huh? Tay tucked her clothes under her arm. You don’t waste any time, do ya? She envied his ability to take what was thrown at him with a grain of salt.

I yam what I yam, he replied in his best Popeye impersonation.

Yeah, you are, she studied him. With his blonde, surfer boy good looks, a six foot, one inch body he took immense pride in keeping perfect and those bright blue, always smiling eyes, he was the cliché stereotype of a walking chick magnet.

So, what’s up? she queried tentatively, somehow sure she didn’t want to know. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?

Moving further into the room, he exchanged a questioning look with Twink, then shrugged stiffly. The meeting with Thomas tomorrow? He braced on the edge of the bed. The one you set up three months ago. You’re still ok with it, right?

Oh shit. Tay felt the blood drain from her face. Friday. It was Friday. How could she have possibly forgotten what day it was?  Tomorrow she could potentially be selling one of the last pieces of real estate they had left of their dad; his pride and joy, a fifteen thousand square foot commercial, wood working shop he'd lovingly designed with his own hands. It had been, as Craig always said, his third child.

She covered her eyes, horrified. It felt like yesterday their lawyer Thomas had called, set up the meeting. Despite three months to prepare, she still wanted to hurl when she thought about it and currently had to work to keep from doing just that. It wasn’t often she swam in the River Denial, but when she did, it was always an adventure crawling back onto shore.

Thick silence filled the room. Muttering something about coffee, Twink bolted.

Taylor, it’s going to waste, Craig openly appreciated Twink’s backside as she disappeared. And the money wouldn’t hurt, he added.

Momentarily stunned, Tay gapped. Didn’t you inherit enough when dad died? she shot out in disbelief. The money wouldn’t hurt, she snorted. My God, Craig. It’s not about the money.

With enough sense to look ashamed, he still snapped back. You damn well know I didn’t mean it like you’re trying to make it sound, his tone softened. Come on, Taylor. Don’t you think you should let someone else put that place to good use?

She didn’t miss how he’d said ‘you’.

Yup, lucky her. Being the business savvy, level-headed sibling, all decisions related to their dad’s sizable estate had been placed squarely on her shoulders. People believed financial freedom, no matter how it came about, was a blessing. Tay begged to differ. For her, it had been nothing but a curse, an albatross around her neck. She’d experienced the dark side of money, the way it turned people… men… into conniving, soul sucking losers, which in turn had forced her to become the cold hearted, mistrustful and lonely woman she was.

Without a word, she headed to the door, back stiff.

Taylor, he followed. You gotta let it go sometime.

Spinning on him so fast he rocked back on his heels, she snarled. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to! Betrayal and anger beat in her chest as she swept him with an icy stare before continuing to the bathroom.

Tay, he followed, foot preventing her from slamming the door in his face. Think about it, he suggested. Leaning against the jamb, his blue eyes no longer sparkled with laughter, which was good, because she was pretty sure she’d blacken one, or both, if they had been.

Biting back her irritation, she eyeballed him. He looked so much like their dad she had to swallow around a sudden boulder in her throat. More than four years after the accident, the pain was still sometimes so raw it physically hurt.

Wanting to lash out, but a professional at hiding her true feelings, she bit her tongue, secure in the knowledge that her expression didn’t give away the tumultuous storm inside, ripping her apart.

Dropping her clothes to the floor, she somehow managed to keep the edge of pain from her tone. I am thinking about it. I haven't made up my mind.

Craig frowned. It’s been three months, plenty long enough to make a decision, his expression saddened at her stoic silence. Fine, he conceded to his baby sister. Meeting’s not until tomorrow so time's almost up, Tay.

Could he have made it sound any more ominous? 

She nodded. Not in agreement, but in the hope that he’d go away. Thankfully, it worked.

I’m heading into town to catch up with some friends. Phones on if you need me, he stepped back. I know this is hard for you, but selling is the right thing to do. Tapping her nose gently, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead, said I love you, sis and left.

CHAPTER 3

Closing the door, Tay shucked her pjs and climbed into the shower. The first jet of ice cold water hit her like pins and needles, immediately sapping all heat from her flesh. Her teeth were on the edge of chattering before it finally began to warm up, soon turning her skin a lovely shade of lobster red.

As she washed up, her mind spun rapidly.

First the dream, then thoughts of Brent and the whip cream topper; a slap in the face reminder of the meeting. So far, her day had sucked and all before coffee. Could things get any better?   

She snorted into the spray.

Maybe if she were hit by a freaking freight-train.

How was it the meeting, something she’d been thinking about and trying not to think about for three months, had not been her first waking thought?  Instantly remembering her dream, the heat of the water became nothing compared to the heat that shot through her body.

Only a figment of her imagination could have been perfect enough to wipe away thoughts of what she had to do tomorrow. Chalk one up to the dream man.

She pushed him aside. He was imaginary. Tomorrow was real.

Why had she ever agreed to the meeting in the first place?  Was it because some part of her wanted to let the property go?  Realistically, she couldn’t use it. She couldn’t even drive by without sniveling like a baby, and Craig, who wasn’t anywhere near as attached to the place as she was, certainly didn’t want it.

Without a second thought, she’d sold all the other real estate they'd inherited, except for the main homestead which she lived in. Why was she having such a hard time with that one piece of property? 

Chances were pretty good the reason was because none of the other real estate carried the memories that workshop did. Everything about the place, right down to the color of paint on the walls, was a glaring reminder of her father.

She'd practically lived there while it had been under construction. After its completion, she'd been a firsthand witness to her dad, the most important man in her life, turning his lifelong passion for making custom furniture into a company known around the world. In the process, he’d inadvertently become one of the largest employers around and his decency and generosity towards his employees was returned in kind.

The day he'd been taken away by a senseless, freak accident had stunned the entire town. Barely able to function on the lowest human level possible, never mind make decisions for a multimillion dollar company, Tay had shoved everything onto Thomas with one order; make sure the employees were taken care of. It was the least she could do for them.

Thomas hadn’t disappointed, taking care of everything from distributing the final profit-sharing checks, arranging the sale of the business clientele list, custom designs and equipment to even helping a few of the employees relocate after they’d decided to work for the competition. Then, in the hopes that Tay or Craig would one day want to make use of it, Thomas had the building cleaned and locked up, ready to be opened and usable at a moment's notice.

The present slammed into her, the ghostly remnants of the past brushing through her consciousness. Her dad was gone. The one man in her life that had been able to make everything better, fix any problem, resolve any issue was… gone.

She choked on a sob, wanting to be angry at Craig. If only she could bury the self-centered asshole in the back yard for forcing her into reality. Truthfully though, it wasn’t his fault she’d prolonged the inevitable. She’d chosen to procrastinate, to deal with it later rather than sooner.

The sooner had finally arrived.

Procrastination was her friend though, and she’d make the decision not one nanosecond before she absolutely had to.

CHAPTER 4

Showered, dressed and game face firmly in place, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing a mug, she caught Twink eyeing her carefully over the rim of her own. Dropping a Wild Blueberry pod into the Keurig, Tay drooled at the smell, grabbing it the instant it was done. Go go juice in hand, she joined Twink at the table, expertly avoided her friend’s keen gaze.

I’m gathering by the way you won’t look at me, you’re no longer living in the land of make believe, Twink broke the silence. I’m also going to take a wild stab at this and say you’ve been forced to step back into reality. Tay glowered in reply, liking it so much better in the land of ignorance and bliss. I'll take that lovely face as a yes. Moving on, Twink blew a quiet raspberry. What are the plans for tonight?  Ice cream or going out?  And to tell you the truth, she leaned over. My jeans are positively screaming, so I’d prefer something that doesn’t involve ice-cream.

Believe me, Tay sipped her coffee. I’m in the mood to drown my sorrows for an evening. Honestly, I’m in the mood to bury myself in a bottle.

If you were an alcoholic, I’d be worried, Twink rose. So chicky, now that the activities have been decided, what's the timeline?  You’ll be done at the campground about fourish? Putting her mug on the counter, she cocked her head towards Tay. I’ll never understand why you work, she confessed honestly. It’s not like you have to.

Unwilling to be dragged into that bottomless topic of conversation, Tay mused silently. They'd been over it a million times, but Twink couldn’t seem to grasp the concept as to why Tay wanted to work.

The death of their dad had thrown both siblings for a loop, the difference being the way they each handled the tragedy once things had settled down.

After the funeral, Craig had done the man thing, diving headfirst into women and booze, ignoring all responsibilities, and leading the life of debauchery for a good amount of time. One day, after a particularly nasty drunken fight with his sister, he’d stopped. Using a small portion of his inheritance, he’d purchased a large horse farm a few towns over and up and left, all the while proclaiming his deepest regrets for moving away from her.

She’d truly hated him for a while. The family house, where such a short time prior had contained life, was now empty, lonely and way too big for one person, reminding Tay daily of her losses.

In hindsight, after a lot of alcohol, crying, angry texts and calls to Craig, she’d come to understand he hadn’t abandoned her when he'd cut and run, he’d been thinking of her. It was something that had taken her a while to figure out; if he'd stayed, his addictive personality would have been his demise, and their dad wouldn’t have been the only one she’d have to bury.

Stuck alone in the huge house, idle time had become Tay's numero uno enemy, the perfect breeding ground for self-pity breakdowns and a shit-ton of what ifs. To keep from becoming a permanent member of some psych ward, she'd made it a goal to become eternally busy. The more she did, the less time she had to think, to dwell, to remember, to hurt. Unless Twink stepped into Tay's size 7 1/2 Naughty Monkeys, she'd never understand.

For a while Tay had accomplished her nightly, drop dead from exhaustion goal. She'd started with waitressing at The Blue Moon Diner. Cliff, the owner, had opened the Diner with a loan from her dad. Though taken aback at her job inquiry, he’d been more than willing to repay the personal debt to her father, hiring her on the spot.

Double shifts at the Diner had filled her days. Bartending at the local bar had filled a lot of the awake time gaps. But it hadn't been enough. Her desire to have every second her eyes were open fully occupied, hadn't been achieved.

One day, while on shift at the Diner, a gentleman by the name of Mr. Jenkins came in. They’d hit it off instantly. Every day for a month he'd returned, always sitting in Tay's section. She'd learned he’d recently lost his wife of thirty five years. As a new start to life, he'd purchased The Blue Moon Cabins, a gorgeous, twenty cabin campgrounds, on the outskirts of town. Though it sounded to Tay as if he’d bitten off more than he could chew, he was adamant about how the worst thing in the world for him to do was sit still.

That she could understand.

During one of their conversations, he'd offered her a job, explaining that even though his sisters Marge and Maggie came up every weekend to help, he still needed someone to handle the daily chores, something he was too busy to do himself.

A part of her, recognizing a kindred soul in him, had her jumping at his offer. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out his sisters could handle anything that needed to be done. Still, she understood the Universe had handed her exactly who she needed, when she needed them, and she'd willingly climbed aboard the life raft.

Time began to heal the open wounds of loss. Working three jobs began to cause problems of its own.

Reassessing her world, she'd quit her other jobs to focus solely on helping Mr. Jenkins. Feeling like the correct decision at the time, she never once regretted it. Slowly, her life settled into something closer to normal, her days no longer filled with loss and pain, the campground becoming her second home and Mr. Jenkins' family her own.

If I were you, Twink interrupted her thoughts. I’d be lounging on a beach somewhere, drinking Margaritas. Or doing Tequila shots off the eight pack abs of some dude named Juan and his cousin Pedro McHotty.

Lounging around was just below sleeping with tarantulas on Tay’s list of things to do.

Keeping busy keeps me from thinking, Tay patiently explained for the umpteenth time. Thinking led to remembering. Remembering led to wishing. Wishing led to all kinds of fucked up shit that just wasn’t meant to be. I’ll probably be done closer to five, she changed the subject. I didn’t do anything on Sunday and barely stopped by this week, so I’m sure all the Cabins need a good douching.

Liar. You did do something Sunday, Twink corrected her, pouncing on the opportunity. You sat in your pjs and ate ice-cream. You’re lucky I didn’t tell Mr. Jenkins. He’d have come over here and kicked your ass. I will tattle next time, though. That has got to stop.

Tay rolled her eyes in answer. Who didn’t sometimes wallow in self-pity and loneliness?  Wasn't it a human right to wade through that swamp occasionally?  As for loneliness, due to the fiasco with Brent, it had become a bittersweet companion, a self-imposed sentence that Tay didn’t particularly like, but was willing to accept.

She sipped her coffee quietly.

You comin’ home or staying there tonight? Twink grabbed an apple from the ceramic fruit bowl decorated with Looney Tunes characters on the table and bit into it with gusto.

The sisters are up. No matter how much she loved them, she wasn't in the mood for happy family time. I’m coming back here, she said, wondering what kind of shit storm she'd encounter tomorrow.

Twink finished the apple, dropping the core into the stainless steel trash bin before heading towards the door. Ok, so we’ll meet back here around five, and hit The Chop Shop tonight? Holding the door open with her foot, she waited. Sound like a plan? Tay finally nodded. Good. Maybe tonight we can work on finding someone to break that dry spell of yours, she suggested. Put some of that pent up horny into reality so you can stop dreaming about it.

Twink please. Don’t start, Tay replied. I’ve enough to think about already. Pent up horny her ass. It could stay pent up. Forever. There’s no need to add another layer of bullshit.

Her mind veered hard to the left, running smack dab into thoughts of Brent. He might have been the biggest mistake of her life, but the man had been dynamite in the sack.

Damn, she hated thinking about him. It usually ended with her sitting on a couch, eating ice-cream by the gallon. In fact, was there any in the freezer? 

Brent was… she started.

Zip it, Tay. Brent was forever and a day ago, she said. When’re you gonna let it go?

Let it go? Was that the fucking mantra of the day?  Tay stared at her mug.

Twink walked over to poke the back of her hand. Taylor, you gotta move on, she said with such seriousness Tay looked up. It’s been almost two years. You’re letting one bad choice rule your life. Compassion filled her tone. Plus, I'm pretty sure you’ve already put The Blue Bunny and Ben and Jerry’s kids through college. And not for nothing, the Blue Bunny has a lot of fuzzy kids.

CHAPTER 5

A tad incredulous, it took a second for Tay to respond. One bad choice? she coughed out. Brent had been more than a bad choice. He’d been a life decision disaster on two legs. How long did you spend picking up pieces of me? Tay stared hard, cringing inwardly at the swift passing of pity in Twink's eye.

If Twink knew the whole truth about him, that pity would most likely have been anger. Too embarrassed by how stupid she'd been, Tay divulged only the simplest of details after the break-up. The people in her world knew just enough to figure out things had gone bad, but not enough for them to realize the mental and emotional disaster it had really been for her.

Brent was one of those life mistakes that permanently change a person, she explained carefully. Like a lobotomy. Or a sex change.

Unlike the constant background ache of the death of her dad, the Brent pain only hurt when she allowed it to, which as of late, had been much too often for her liking. Life had been quiet for a while, and that had allowed loneliness to claw its way out of the pit she'd buried it in. Loneliness had a way of making one doubt their choices, wonder if maybe somehow things could have been salvaged.

She sucked down the last mouthful of coffee. Deceit, greediness, dishonesty and getting one’s heart shredded like pulled pork at a KC Ribshack BBQ had an odd way of killing any possibility of salvage.

Having met Brent about a year after the funeral, Tay had been right on the cusp of coming to terms with her loss. She'd heard a million stories about the new guy in town before they'd met, but never truly paid attention to the gossip because just getting out of bed every day was still a bit of a choir. Meeting some stranger that had the town gossips all a twitter wasn't even a blip on her radar.

Their meeting had been inevitable though, and unbeknownst to Tay, an orchestrated event. The moment they'd met, strangely enough right outside the Diner at the exact time she’d pulled in for work, he’d taken her breath away. The physical attraction had been immediate, undeniable and inescapable. He'd done his homework and had been working her like a job, but from her point of view at that time, it had felt like being bathed in sunshine and the Universe was saying you're going to be ok.

Everything about him intrigued her; from his shoulder length main of dark brown hair, his large body comprised of perfectly sculpted muscles, his handsome face with the warmest brown eyes she'd ever seen to his voice that coated her in honey every time he spoke, he'd seemed perfect. She’d fallen fast and hard, the proverbial head over heels.

Or, better yet, her heels over her head.

Blinded by passion, she'd been unable to see him for what he really was; an exceptionally handsome, good for nothing gold digger. Like a love-struck, or more appropriately, lust-struck dumbass, she’d marched right into the relationship without a hint of uneasiness, never once acknowledging all the red flags that immediately began vying for her attention.

It had taken a while, but over time, the uneasiness she'd been lacking when they'd first met began to assert itself. It had been small things at first, like Brent never talked about his family or where he came from. She never met his friends or even knew their names. He would dodge any personal subject every time, usually stopping her line of questioning with a quick, hard kiss. In fact, whenever she tried to learn anything about him, a roll in the sack was the outcome. Her uneasiness grew, until one day the Universe had decided it was time for her to know the truth.

Distinctly remembering the day she’d learned his real reasons for being with her, Tay still felt the savage pain in her heart. Time might have dulled a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them.

That day had started out with a call from Thomas. The school board had wanted to know if she was interested in partially funding a much needed new school for the town. She’d been ecstatic. What better way to immortalize her dad than a permanent brick and mortar building? 

An unexpected honor, she’d rushed home to share the news with Brent. Bursting with excitement, she’d forgotten to gas up her car, which had sputtered dead as she’d turned onto her quarter mile long, tree lined driveway.

Floating on clouds, never once thinking about her cell, she’d hoofed it to the house. Riding the high of happiness, for the first time since the loss of her dad, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel. She had it all. Freedom, people in her world she loved and cherished, money, a sexy ass man who loved her and to top it all off, an opportunity to share what she had in a way that would not only make a difference but be around for longer than she would.

She’d been on top of the world.

She should have known better.

As she’d climbed up the farmers porch steps to her front door, the life she lived ended again. Everything in her world had nose-dived into un-fucking-believable, the feeling of euphoria crashing in an abrupt and agonizing halt. That point in time was etched in her mind like a carving on a tree, deep and permanent, never going away, just growing with her, a constant reminder of her naivety.

The moment she'd spied the back of Brent’s head as he'd sat on the living room couch beneath the giant front windows, her heart had swelled with pride. The way the gold hints in his dark brown hair had caught the sunlight and the low timbre of his deep, gravelly voice as he spoke made her thank the Gods for being so kind to her. His head had been cocked at an odd angle though and it had taken her a moment to realize he was on his phone. It took another minute to process what he was saying, and that's when things went to hell in a handbasket.

Stupid, horny, rich bitch has no clue what's going on, and let me tell you, this one's worth a fortune, he was silent for a second. Nah, man. You just got outa jail. I'm almost a year into this thing, and I've been able to keep her at bay with wanting to know about me. If you showed up now, it might make shit weird. Another stretch of silence. Yeah, she’s got a brother, but he don’t live here, and everyone else thinks I'm awesome, Brent sounded like he'd impressed even himself with his ability to fool people. Fuck, this one's smart, but sex is her Kryptonite. Thank God she's hot, he’d shifted the phone to the other ear. Otherwise, I don't know if I coulda kept with it this long. Only took a few orgasms to hook her and wham, she was all mine. Now it's just maintenance until I talk her into gettin’ married. Then it’s clean house and see ya.

His words faded into a jumbled, muted mess as the laughing contempt in his tone had frozen the warmth inside her instantly, left her feeling like she was bogged down in a waking nightmare. Her mind did the nah, he's not talking about you thing and every part of her searched for some way to justify what she'd heard.

The coldly casual way he'd spoke had made any chance of justification go up in smoke.

Heart withered in her chest, rooted to the spot by despair and disbelief, she’d listened. Profound devastation had squeezed the breath from her lungs as nausea had risen in her gut while he'd explained how she'd been the easiest mark yet. Bile worked its way up her throat as he'd detailed how he'd been using her unquenchable desire for hot sex against her, baiting her into a relationship that was nothing but a payday in the end for him.

The man she’d loved, had given