Unexpected, p.1
Unexpected, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Unexpected
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Acknowledgements
unexpected
KG FLETCHER
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Unexpected
Copyright © 2016 KG Fletcher
All rights reserved.
ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-939590-97-8
Inkspell Publishing
5764 Woodbine Ave.
Pinckney, MI 48169
Edited By Vicky Burkholder
Cover art By Najla Qamber
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Dedication
For W & J...
Prologue
Josie could feel the sweat trickling down her back, making her wedding dress damp. She continued to fan herself with the program she was saving for her scrapbook, looking out the little window into the sanctuary at all of the wedding guests fanning with the same thing. The air conditioning in the fifty-year-old Decatur church had decided to quit the day before her August second wedding, leaving the entire building at a hot and humid eighty-five degrees during the heat of the summer afternoon. The staff of the church had been wonderful, gathering electric fans from church members and having ample supplies of water bottles in several coolers spread out in the facility, trying to make folks as comfortable as possible.
The ceremony for her and Jake was supposed to start at 3:00 p.m. sharp and it was already 3:15 p.m. Nervously, she went back into the Bridal Suite and stood in front of an oscillating fan, sighing at the delicious breeze that blew in her face. She was alone in the room waiting on her sister Karen, who had gone to investigate what the problem was.
She took a sip of water from a sweaty plastic bottle and checked herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. Her chestnut hair hung limp around her face. The beautiful, long curls she had painstakingly sat through had unfortunately succumbed to the humidity, leaving her with more frizz than curl. She picked up her compact and tried to pat the glare off her nose, her face shining with a sheen of sweat. In one last attempt, she smoothed her hair with her fingers to try to tame the frizziness, but it did no good. With a heavy sigh, she sat on the armchair that looked like it was covered in a pastel Laura Ashley dress from the 1980’s. She adjusted the fan to blow directly on her and for a moment, thought about lifting the heavy silk skirt of her gown to get some airflow to her saturated panties. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself in one of the many yoga classes she had taken over the past year, preparing for her big day, steadily breathing in and out maintaining a calm, Zen-like state.
As she started to relax, she smiled, thinking about her husband-to-be. Jake Erickson was never on time, a trait she had learned to live with over the two years they had dated. She figured he was the problem and they were all waiting on him. Frustrated, she had given her gorgeous boyfriend an ultimatum a year ago that if she wasn’t “the one” for him, he needed to move on. Sure enough, one month later, while they were vacationing in Jacksonville Beach, Florida, he popped the question. They had been sitting on the deck of Joe’s Crab Shack in their bathing suits, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean sipping on cold beers and eating shrimp cocktail. They had been arguing, as usual, over nothing of importance. He suddenly got down on one knee in front of all the tacky tourists. Not the most romantic proposal, but Josie was elated just the same. For the next year, she immersed herself in the planning of her dream wedding from start to finish.
Josie had met Jake at the Tavern at Phipps Plaza where he was a popular bartender. The Tavern was a pretty low-key establishment during the day when hungry and thirsty upper-class shoppers would frequent it for a quick bite or cocktail. At night, it was a completely different place. The conservative daytime wait staff changed over to scantily clad, beautiful, nighttime cocktail waiters and waitresses. Live music was on the deck seven nights a week and hot, hip singles from all over the Atlanta area would swarm the place until the wee hours of the morning.
She had been with some longtime friends from her former high school late one night, enjoying the eye candy of hot guys, sipping on Cosmopolitans at the bar, and Jake just happened to be their bartender. They flirted openly and by the time things were shutting down at 2:00 a.m., with the coercing of her friends, she had managed to get his cellphone number. They started to date exclusively, having problems from the get-go—usually arguments about his job and working around so many beautiful women. Josie wasn’t really the jealous type, but she didn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night by random texts of cute girls sending pictures to his phone. He always laughed it off and said it was the nature of his business never really sympathizing with where she was coming from.
She took another sip of water and picked up her beautiful bouquet to inhale its exquisite smell. She had spared no expense for her once-in-a-lifetime wedding paying for almost everything herself, not wanting to burden her retired mother with the cost. Her father had been out of the picture since she was four.
Jake’s family paid for the rehearsal dinner and he paid for the honeymoon. She was responsible for the wedding and the reception. She had taken most of the money out of her savings account to satisfy her dream wanting everything to be perfect. Jake’s family had done a great job with the rehearsal dinner which was simple and elegant, held at the W Hotel on Peachtree Street a few blocks from the Tavern. It was an intimate affair, as both of them only had one attendant in the wedding party and neither of them came from huge families. She tried to get Jake to give her details about their honeymoon, but he kept his mouth shut, only promising that it was going to be “epic.”
“Josie...”
She opened her eyes and looked at her sister standing in the doorway. Karen had perspiration stains under the silk-capped sleeves of her salmon-colored maid-of-honor dress and her face was slick with sweat.
“Is it time?” Josie stood up, smiling with anticipation, running her hands down her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. “You may want to powder your nose before you make your entrance,” she said, turning back to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.
Karen looked down at the phone in her hand, then back at her older sister.
“Jake’s not coming....”
She looked at her sister’s reflection in the mirror. “What?”
Suddenly, a surge of heat ran through her body and she experienced tunnel vision. The last thing she saw was Karen’s face, twisted with panic, stretching her arms out to catch her as she fainted in a heap of damp silk.
Chapter One
The chirping of her mother’s mini-van annoyed Josie Davis to the point that she took it to her local mechanic to make sure it was drive-able. It pained her to see her Jeep Wrangler still sitting in the parking lot, waiting for a new transmission she couldn’t afford because of the astronomical wedding costs she was still paying off. She had to borrow her mother’s car until she could get back on her feet again. Fortunately, the chirping sound turned out to be a loose belt, which was a minor fix, thank God.
She shook off the image of her beloved Jeep and continued south on Interstate GA 400 toward the Buckhead area, looking forward to meeting a long-time client of hers. As a freelance, certified accountant, Josie had many clients all over the Atlanta area. She worked from a home office and occasionally had to get out and meet them one-on-one to discuss the latest tax laws and expenditures. The Buckhead skyline of shiny office buildings loomed in the distance and knowing she would be so close to the Tavern, an uncomfortable wave of nerves overcame her. As she started to merge over into the right lane to exit, a sleek, bla ck Porsche with tinted windows came whizzing by, passing her on the inside lane. She swerved severely to the left to avoid a collision, hitting a pothole the size of Turner Field on the exit ramp. She knew right away the tire was going to end up flat.
“Dammit!” she screamed, slowing the van down and turning on the hazard lights. She maneuvered the vehicle into the emergency lane and put it in park, leaning her head back on the seat in disbelief, cursing the obviously wealthy driver of the sports car.
With a heavy sigh, she turned off the engine and got out to see what the damage was. The September day was overcast, but the air was still hot and sticky with a humidity that was as thick as foam. Sweat immediately started to trickle down her neck as she leaned over the tire well of the back, driver’s side tire. It was ever-so-slowly losing air out of a small tear from the stupid pothole. She stood up and kicked the tire with her sandal before rummaging in her purse for her cellphone to call for help. She noticed the black Porsche slowly backing up the exit ramp
“What in the hell are they doing?” she mumbled to herself. She wiped the glaze of sweat off of her forehead as the luxury car stopped right in front of the minivan. She stood looking at the red brake lights with her hands on her hips waiting patiently to see just who would be exiting the car.
The door opened and a very tall, very good-looking man dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and flip-flops exited. He was wearing expensive sunglasses and smiling foolishly. He sauntered over to her looking very relaxed and very...cool.
“Oh, man,” he lamented. “I’m so sorry for passing you like that. Are you okay?”
He took off his sunglasses, revealing gorgeous, hazel, smiling eyes. He had to be in his late twenties or early thirties, she couldn’t tell for sure. All she knew was that the sweat on her face started to pour down her cheeks and neck faster and faster, and she was suddenly very thirsty.
“Umm... Yeah, I’m okay. I have a flat tire though.” She motioned to the back tire that was now flat as a pancake.
“I can see that.” He strolled to the back of the mini-van. “You got a spare, right?”
Josie caught herself staring at his perfect ass in his perfect jeans—jeans, in this heat? Her throat suddenly felt like the Moab Desert.
“I.... I don’t know. This is my mother’s car. My jeep is in the shop.” She accentuated the word “Jeep”, hoping it would impress him that this was not her mini-van.
“Well, that’s unfortunate, giving up your ride for a classy mini-van.” He grinned at her revealing his perfect teeth. Was he mocking her? She watched him flex his tanned arms as he opened the hatch of the van, surveying the inside.
“Yep, you’ve got one.” He grinned at her again, slowly peeling off his white t-shirt revealing extraordinary, tanned six-pack abs. He tossed the tee on the roof of the car. “It sure is hot out here.” He continued to rummage around the back until he found the car jack. Her mouth hung open like an idiot as he passed her to set it up.
“By the way, my name is Will.” He started to hand crank the jack, sweat trickling down his biceps, making them glisten. He pushed a damp, floppy wave of his dark hair back from his forehead and looked up at her, exerting energy, grinning the whole time. “And you are...?”
She realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it and swallowed. “My name is Josie.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Josie. Again, I’m really sorry for causing your delay.” He started to take the lug nuts off the flat tire, using brute force to get them to turn, which really accentuated his arm muscles. A Land Rover full of girls flew by them on the exit ramp, honking and whooping as they waved from inside the car. Will didn’t flinch and kept focused on his task.
“I’m not in any hurry. I was just paying one of my clients a visit. I can do that any time.” She was trying desperately to play it cool in front of this wealthy, handsome man but the heat on the highway was oppressive. Her camisole was completely saturated under her sheer top, her hair underneath her ponytail was sticking to her neck, and her panties were damp under her khaki Capri pants. Even though her clothes might seem casual anywhere else, they were standard wear in the heat of Atlanta.
“What do you do Josie?” He handed her the rim full of hardware and hoisted the flat tire off the frame, smudging his chest and hands with black rubber residue.
“I’m a freelance accountant.” She wished she had a towel in the car for him. He was getting completely sweaty and dirty for her. What if he had to be somewhere?
“Nice!” He left the flat tire on the pavement and grabbed the spare out of the back, bouncing it to the empty wheel well. He got it on in no time and she held the rim full of nuts for him as he carefully tightened each one back on the tire, flexing his upper body magnificently.
“That didn’t take long now, did it?” He grinned at her again, pushing back the wave on his forehead smearing more black residue on his handsome face. He slowly cranked the jack back down to where the tire was sitting perfectly on the pavement.
“Gosh, that’s a lot of work. I appreciate you coming back and doing this for me. I probably would have had to call Triple-A.” She felt like a wet mop standing on the hot asphalt, sweating profusely watching him hoist the flat tire into the back of the van and shutting the hatch.
“It’s the least I could do,” he said, grabbing his t-shirt off the top of the car. He used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, neck, chest, and dirty hands. The shirt was ruined.
“Oh, wow. You just ruined your shirt. Do you have to be anywhere?” she asked with concern. Her eyes were about to pop out of her head watching him.
He ran his hands through his damp hair again, a noticeable habit she was starting to enjoy.
“Nah... I was just heading home by way of Lenox Mall. I can stop by there another day.” He shook his head with disbelief and laughed. “It sure is freakin’ hot out here!” He grinned, rubbing the soiled t-shirt on the back of his neck. “I want to pay you for a new tire, okay?”
She shook her head even though she wasn’t sure how she’d pay for a new one. “No, that’s all right. Thanks though.”
“Okay, but you look hot. Would you like to go for a swim or something?”
Josie held her breath. Did he just ask her to go for a swim? She suddenly felt very dizzy and put her hand on the van to steady herself.
“Whoa... Hey! Let’s get you in some AC. You don’t look so good.” He kept the t-shirt casually draped over his shoulder and politely grabbed her elbow, leading her to the passenger side of his Porsche. The touch of his hot fingers on her skin was electrifying. She slumped down on the tan leather seat as he jogged around to the driver’s side, sliding in and cranking up the car to turn on the air conditioning. The engine purred as he sat beside her and closed the door. He handed her a bottle of water that had been sitting in the cup holder, which she gratefully took and sipped.
“Close your door so we can cool off,” he said matter-of-factly. Josie pulled on the door to shut it and leaned her head back with her eyes closed, relishing the cool air blasting on her face. “Better?” he asked.
She nodded and turned her head to him. He was a sweaty, dirty mess—his musky smell taking over the small interior.
“I don’t know what I was thinking wearing jeans today,” he laughed. “So, would you like to go swimming? My house isn’t far from here. It might make you feel better. I’d like to get to know you, Josie.” He smiled sweetly, waiting for her reply.
No alarm bells went off in her head and she admitted to herself that she was overheated–in more ways than one. Could there be any harm in spending an afternoon swimming with a handsome man that she met on the highway? She couldn’t think of any reason not to and frankly, after all she had been through, the idea excited her. She was tired of doing what was expected of her, especially after her fiasco wedding. Sure, he was a stranger. Or was he? She vaguely recognized his face from somewhere, maybe the newspapers? Sure, she had an appointment, but that could be cancelled. Sure, she had no swimming suit. Okay, she didn’t have an answer for that, but her camisole and panties would do. Decision made, she threw caution to the wind.
“I’ll need to follow you, so don’t go too fast. The van isn’t even on the same radar as this fine machine.” She smiled shyly.
