Only You Read online

  Only You

  Rachel Lacey

  Copyright

  This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

  This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Only You

  Copyright © 2016 by Rachel Lacey

  Ebook ISBN: 9781943772438

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  NYLA Publishing

  350 7th Avenue, Suite 2003, NY 10001, New York.

  http://www.nyliterary.com

  Dedication

  To my #girlswritenight ladies: Annie Rains, Sidney Halston, Tif Marcelo, and April Hunt. I'm not sure how I ever plotted a book without you!

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people who played a part in the making of this little book. First, thank you to my family for helping me find time to squeeze an extra project into my already busy schedule. I appreciate your help and support so much!

  To my amazing and tireless agent, Sarah Younger - thank you so much for helping me make Only You a reality. I had an idea to write a novella, and you made it happen. I can't say enough how much I love working with you and NYLA. Big thanks as well to Natanya Wheeler for designing my beautiful cover and so much more. Thank you for making my first independent release such a positive experience.

  A special shout-out to all my friends in the romance community. When I decided to pursue this crazy dream of becoming an author, I had no idea what an amazing group of people I would be joining. I feel so lucky because I've made so many great friends along the way! You guys are awesome. I'm not even going to try to name names because there are just too many of you, but just know that I love and appreciate you all!

  Thank you to my awesome sister, Juliana, and my awesome critique partner, Annie Rains, for beta reading this novella for me. You ladies rock! Also thank you to Will Goodwin for serving as my medical expert (yet again!)

  And of course, to my readers - thank you so much for taking a chance on me. I am so grateful for each and every one of you!

  Chapter One

  “Please, Mom? Can’t we keep him?”

  Amy Jameson tugged at the leash in her hand, nudging the white fluff-ball of a dog her son was currently smitten with further down the aisle of Perry’s Pet Boutique. Can’t we keep him? Dreaded words to a dog-allergic, overworked single mom. “Honey, you know we can’t. We’re only fostering him until he finds a new family.”

  Noah sighed, reaching down to pet Yoda, the poodle mix.

  Surprisingly, the dog didn’t bother Amy’s allergies as much as she’d expected. And as of last week, she and Noah had a house of their own to call home, a house that leaned more toward money pit than fixer-upper. But it was hers. And it had a yard, a safe place for Noah to play outside.

  Her “no pets allowed in the apartment complex” argument was no longer valid. So how did she explain to her son that she just plain couldn’t handle the responsibility, or the expense, of another mouth to feed?

  “He needs treats,” Noah said, his voice little more than a whisper. “And a bone to chew. And toys.”

  “Aunt Merry sent over plenty of toys and goodies when we agreed to foster him for her. He just needs a bag of dog food.”

  “But I really like this one.” Noah picked up a chew toy, running his hand back and forth over the raised rubber bumps ridging its surface.

  She drew a deep breath, ready to tell him why Yoda didn’t need another chew toy, why the half-chewed up thing Merry had sent over with him was totally fine, but she was so tired of saying no. How much could a little chew toy really cost? She reached out and flipped over the tag. $11.99.

  Holy crap.

  She could pay for Noah’s school lunch for a week with that money. “He doesn’t need it. Aunt Merry sent plenty of toys for him.”

  Noah was silent, still rubbing his hand over the rubber nubs on the toy, but she saw the frustration in his eyes. He was tired of hand-me-downs, both for himself and for the mutt sniffing the aisle ahead of them—already a hand-me-down himself as he’d been given up by his first owners, landing him in the animal rescue run by Amy’s brother’s fiancée until he found a permanent home.

  Which would not be with Amy and Noah. She could barely afford to feed the two of them. “I’m sorry, bud.”

  He put the toy back onto the shelf and walked ahead of her, turning the corner to the next aisle. Always so quiet when he was upset. Just once, she wanted to be able to say yes to what he’d asked for, to see his eyes light up with excitement, to hear him squeal with joy the way he so rarely did.

  “Someday,” she muttered.

  Yoda yanked at the leash in her hand, and she glanced down to see him raise his rear leg in the direction of a pile of rope toys.

  “Yoda, no!” She bent and grabbed him around his scrawny ribs, but it was too late. A stream of urine shot out from him, going everywhere. She stumbled forward with a squeak, giving the dog a small shake to get him to quit peeing, and her head bumped into something—or someone.

  She turned her head and found herself eye level with a man’s crotch. And oh God, she had just head-butted him in the groin. She lurched upright, sending a stream of Yoda pee all over the poor guy’s pants in the process. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry—”

  “Amy?”

  That voice. It sent a bolt of longing through her so intense that her whole body sizzled with it. She looked up and into the slightly amused eyes of Luke Benson.

  Yoda slipped through her fingers, leaping to the floor to finish his interrupted business.

  Luke.

  If it was possible, he looked even better than she remembered. The cocky, lean teenager who’d stolen her heart at the tender age of sixteen had matured into a tall, solid man who filled out his worn jeans and T-shirt with a lot more muscle than he’d had in high school. His brown hair was shorter now, close-cut, but his eyes were the same: hazel flecked with a million different shades of green, gold, and brown.

  She cleared her throat while her heart pounded against her ribs and her cheeks grew suspiciously warm. “Luke. You’re back in town.”

  “I am.” And he was looking at her the way he had in high school, a way no man had since: like she was the most beautiful woman in the room.

  Or, in this case, the pet store.

  And, oh God, there was a streak of dog pee on the front of his pants. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I am so sorry about that.”

  He glanced down at himself and chuckled. “I’ve had worse.”

  Right. Because he was a hot-shot doctor now. Divorced and living in Baltimore the last she’d heard. Not that she’d kept tabs on him since they broke up fifteen years ago, because okay, she totally had. “He’s—” She looked down at Yoda, who’d finished relieving himself and was once again busy sniffing his way down the aisle. “He’s not really mine, or particularly well-behaved.”

  “I can see that. You look good, Amy. How have you been?”

  She rubbed her hands over the front of her threadbare cotton skirt. Tired. Lonely. “I’m good. And you—what brings you back to Dogwood?”

  “Joe and Amanda’s wedding,” he said.

  Of course. Joe Royce had been a close friend of Luke’s in high school. Which was just super because Amy would be at that wedding too. In fact, she wa
s one of Amanda’s bridesmaids. She was going solo, of course, and if she had to sit there all night and try not to feel jealous of Luke and his date, she might lose it.

  “I’m a stand-in groomsman,” he said, a hint of humor in those hazel eyes.

  “A what?”

  “Eddie deployed a few months ago, and apparently Amanda wanted to keep the bridal party even, so they asked me to step in.”

  “Oh.” Right. She’d heard that Joe’s friend Eddie had deployed, but she was certain Amanda hadn’t mentioned anything about asking Luke to join the bridal party in his place. “Well, I’m glad it worked out. I know Amanda has been stressing over all the details lately.”

  He nodded. “I just got back into the states after putting in some time with Doctors Without Borders and didn’t have a new apartment in Baltimore yet so I decided to come visit Mom for a few weeks before the wedding.”

  “That’s nice. How is your mom these days?” Amy had always adored Mrs. Benson. She reminded her a lot of her own mom: warm, caring, and funny. And fiercely protective of her only son.

  His gaze softened. “She’s great. Still up to no good. You know how she is.”

  Amy laughed softly. “Remember how she busted us that time when you snuck out after your curfew, and I came and picked you up?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, and his eyes heated.

  Yeah. They’d had sex on the backseat of her Ford Focus that night too.

  “Mom?” Noah’s small voice pulled her back to the present. He stood at the end of the aisle, a bag of dog food in his arms.

  Luke’s brow wrinkled as he glanced over his shoulder in Noah’s direction. Yep, that’s right. She had a kid now. A kid who came before anything else in her life, especially men. Probably Luke would say an awkward goodbye and be on his way.

  Which was for the best really.

  “Hi there,” Luke said instead. “What’s your name?”

  Noah looked away quickly, rocking from side to side as he clutched the bag of dog food.

  “Noah,” Amy said quietly. “His name is Noah.”

  And he’s autistic.

  And no doubt Luke was mentally calculating the swiftest escape route, much as Noah’s father had done. Squaring her shoulders, Amy walked toward her son, dragging the ill-behaved poodle mix behind her.

  ***

  Luke Benson eyed the rows of dog food in front of him, but it was all he could do not to stare at the woman beside him. Damn. If possible, she was even more gorgeous than she’d been in high school, tall and slender yet curvy in all the right places. Her brown hair had light streaks that might have come from the salon, but he suspected she’d gotten them the old-fashioned way: spending time outside.

  He imagined her at her parents’ farm, riding horses with Noah. Yeah. She’d always been fun and adventurous; never afraid to get her hands dirty. And after all these years, she still made his heart beat too fast.

  He glanced at the boy. Probably eight or nine, scrawny as Luke himself had been at that age, with a shock of brown hair and round glasses that gave him a bit of a Harry Potter look. “My name’s Luke. I’m an old friend of your mom’s. I’m here to buy dog food too.”

  “You have a dog?” Amy asked as she walked to her son and lifted the bag of dog food from his arms. He tucked himself in behind her, his hands fluttering restlessly at his sides.

  Autistic, maybe. Luke kept his eyes on the shelves in front of him to keep from making the boy any more anxious. “It’s my mom’s dog. I offered to pick up some food for her, but I had no idea there were so many choices.”

  “This kind has blueberries, and fruit is good for you,” Noah said quietly.

  “That’s a good point,” Luke said, picking up a bag of the food Noah was pointing at. “I bet Dove—that’s my mom’s dog—would like blueberries.”

  “They’re good for you,” Noah said again.

  “I’m sold.” Luke tucked the bag of dog food under his arm. “Does your dog like the blueberry kind?”

  Noah nodded, picking at a loose thread on his shirtsleeve.

  “He’s not ours,” Amy said. “We’re just keeping him a little while for T.J. and his fiancée while they look for a permanent home for him.”

  He let himself glance at her again, and damn if just the sight of her didn’t leave him as breathless as if he’d just finished a five-mile run. “How is your brother?”

  “He’s doing really well.” Amy shifted the bag of dog food in her arms.

  Noah crouched in the aisle to pet the dog. “Mom?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “If Mr. Luke is a friend of yours, maybe he could fix our air conditioner.”

  “Mr. Luke is a doctor. He fixes people, not air conditioners, and I told you I can fix it myself. I watched a YouTube video.” She glanced at Luke. “We just moved into a new house, and it’s kind of a fixer-upper.”

  Luke knew an opportunity when he saw one, because he’d never been satisfied with the way things ended between them back in high school. He wasn’t letting Amy walk out of his life a second time until he was damn sure this thing between them was finished, and, right now, it sure didn’t feel finished. “Well, as it happens, I’m pretty good with my hands.”

  Amy blushed. “Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of it myself.”

  Suddenly, it didn’t feel like they were talking about air conditioners. Luke cleared his throat and dragged his mind out of the gutter because they were standing in the middle of the pet store with a misbehaving mutt and Amy’s son as an audience. “I’m happy to take a look. I’m here all week just hanging out with my mom, and I think she’s already getting sick of me.”

  Amy took a step backward. “Thanks, but I already have someone scheduled to come by tomorrow if I can’t fix it today.”

  He shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Well, we should be going. I need to let someone know about that—” She gestured to the yellow puddle on the floor, “and get this guy out of here before he makes any more messes.”

  “Right. So, I’ll see you at the wedding?”

  She nodded.

  “Excellent.” Suddenly this wedding felt like something to look forward to because he absolutely wanted to see Amy again. As she hurried toward the checkout counter, with Noah and the dog following behind her, even the wedding seemed too long to wait.

  ***

  Amy kicked the busted air conditioner. “Dammit.”

  She clutched her toe. Kicking the air conditioner while wearing flip flops was not her brightest idea. But damn, this house was a money pit. The night around her hummed with insects. And it was hot. Miserably hot. It was only mid-May, but summer temperatures had arrived early in Dogwood, North Carolina. Amy brushed back a damp lock of hair from her face. So far, homeownership had not been the dream come true she’d been hoping for.

  After her grandfather passed away a few months ago, the house had been left to Amy and her brother. Since T.J. already owned his own farm, this little house had fallen into her lap. And it was perfect for her and Noah, if it didn’t fall down on its foundation around them. The window screens were full of holes, which she and Noah had spent most of the afternoon patching with construction paper so that they could at least keep the windows open without serving as a buffet for all the hungry mosquitoes in the area.

  The carpets were worn and stained. The faucet in the guest bathroom didn’t work. And there was a suspicious soft spot under the linoleum in front of the refrigerator that made her fear she’d fall through the floor every time she got a cold drink.

  But it was hers. And despite its many problems, the house sat on some seriously amazing land. Acres of woods, even a stream for Noah to play in and have boyish adventures until his heart was content. Once she’d finished fixing the place up, it was going to be their sanctuary.

  In the meantime…

  Amy rubbed at her big toe and debated giving the air conditioner one more kick for good measure. The capable chick on YouTube had made it look li
ke a simple fix. Not so much. At least her failure would make a great entry on Everyday Emmy.

  Yeah, her friends and family had no idea she moonlighted as a blogger and was making enough money at it that she’d been able to give up waitressing nights and move to a morning schedule. It meant fewer tips, but so much more time with her son.

  Amy was the opposite of most successful “mommy bloggers.” She shared real-life experiences that were definitely not Pinterest-worthy. She shared her struggles as a single mom and as the mother of a high-functioning autistic son. She told humorous stories about failed do-it-herself attempts like tonight’s air conditioning fiasco. And she got honest about the hardships she faced in a way she seldom did with anyone who knew her in real life.

  She called herself Emmy, and Noah “Bud,” her real-life nickname for him. And somehow her little blog had started bringing in enough ad money that she’d dared to take a leap of faith and move into this house. She was dreaming big for once, terrified of crashing and burning but determined to make life better for herself and her son.

  Rubbing at a fresh mosquito bite on her elbow, she tromped inside. Yoda nipped at her heels as she walked to the kitchen for a cold glass of water. He looked up at her, panting.

  “Yeah, it’s hot in here. I know.” She bent and rubbed his fluffy head. Poor dog. He must be roasting under all that fur. “Want a haircut?” She was joking when the words left her mouth, but why not? She had a set of hair clippers she used to trim around Noah’s neck after she cut his hair. Same principle, right?

  Yoda cocked his head. Now that she thought about it, Merry had mentioned something about him being overdue to be groomed. “Come on, then. Let’s give it a try.”

  She brought her cell phone with her to the bathroom to take pictures, giggling as she mentally started composing her next Everyday Emmy post. A poodle trimming, and a busted air conditioner. Maybe she could even mention his earlier pee-geyser at the pet store.