If Only
| If Only | |
| Number I of Captured | |
| Louise J | |
| Louise J (2012) | |
| Tags: | Captured |
Callie
What’s a girl to do when she meets a man who claims the heart that she’s already given to someone else? My boyfriend is everything I’ve ever wanted, he’s perfect, but when I met Joe ... I can’t even describe the intensity of my attraction to him. I’d never experienced anything like it before. Since then, it’s become something so much deeper and I’m finding it impossible to ignore what I feel for him. I know I’m already with the man I should be with, yet I want Joe. I can’t seem to get my head and my heart to agree on this. I’m not about to cheat and I won’t just drop the man I love. But what do I do about Joe?
Joe
Tattoos, bikes, and women – that’s been my life for the last two years and it suited me just fine. Until the day I swerved to avoid a raggedy old VW Bug heading my way, hit the sidewalk, and ended up sprawled on my back. I came around to a pounding headache and the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. Don’t know if it was the effect she had on me, or the accident, but I somehow managed to let her go without exchanging information, more importantly numbers. Maybe it would’ve been better if things had stayed that way. Maybe then I wouldn’t be caught up in this dilemma. I should do what most guys would do and pursue her, regardless of her being in a relationship. Trust me, it’s tempting. The problem is, I’ve been on the receiving end of a situation similar to this, so I know the hurt I could cause and I don’t think I can do that. But I want Callie. I want her bad.
When Callie and Joe met, neither were prepared for the sequence of events that would follow, or the impact of the choices they would go on to make.
If Only
Book 1 in the Captured Series
By Louise J
Copyright © 2012 by Louise J
First Edition
All rights reserved
.
No
part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission
of the author and publisher, Louise J, except by a reviewer who may quote brief
passages for review purposes only.
This
book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, historical events, or
real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to
actual events, locales, persons living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design and photo by
SyMobius
at www.symobius.com
For
questions or comments about this book, please contact the author at
[email protected]
Thank you!
Two words I owe several people, though, they only say what I feel and can’t
possibly express the depth of my gratitude. First and foremost, they go to the
man who is everything I need him to be when I need him to be it, my source of
constant encouragement and support. None of this would have been possible
without you, not only because you’ve tolerated a barely there wife and accepted
me spending most of my time with these other ‘people,’ but because of you I
know what true love feels like. What better experience is there for writing a
romance novel?
Nicola, you
little package of dynamite, and Tanya, thank you for being the first ever
readers of the first ever draft of my first ever completed story. It was quite
a mess, but it’s come a long way since then – you both played a role in that.
(And you took on the second draft) Your time, feedback and your enthusiasm for
the story meant/means more than I can ever tell you.
Sarah and
Heather, thank you so very much for taking the time to proofread for me, and
for your valuable feedback. Your positivity for the story was the icing on the
cake.
Committing
to a novel isn’t a nine-to-five; it’s never ending and incredibly demanding –
especially starting out with zero experience and having to learn along the way.
To my mother and those of you close to me, apologies if you’ve felt neglected,
and thank you for your patience and understanding.
And,
finally, to those of you who offered a genuine smile and true words of
encouragement – thank you. You have no idea how much of a positive impact these
had on me.
Seriously.
Dedicated to Mary Kate and John Pender (minus
the sexy bits)
Seven years later: August 2008
Forty Eight: Scottsdale, Arizona
Joe
June 2001
Shit, I’m dead.
“Hello?”
I’m dead ... and I’m in …. I
can’t be.
“Hello, can you hear me?” a
girl says, the words rushed and laced with alarm.
Beautiful, beautiful angel
... how did I–
“If you can hear me,
don’t move. I’m going to call for help, okay?”
What? Wait?
In a
panic, I reach out and grasp her arm as she goes to leave. I realize now that
I’m lying flat on my back on the sidewalk. “Stay, angel,” I say, my voice
muffled from my helmet. Lifting my head, to look at her, brings on a fierce
pounding. Slowly, I lower my throbbing scull back down onto the hard surface
beneath me.
“I just wanna get my cell
from the car. We need to get you to the hospital.” She tugs against my hold,
and I release her. Now I hear running footsteps approaching.
“Ah, shit, what happened to
him?”
Why is my brother here,
too?
“What–”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl
cuts in on him. “Another motorcyclist tried to pass me and it was too close, so
I swerved and … oh, God, this guy was trying to avoid me and skidded onto the
sidewalk. It all happened so fast, it wasn’t even his fault. I’m gonna go get
my phone.”
I raise my tinted visor,
gritting my teeth through the burning pain in my right shoulder. “No, just give
me a minute.” I’m aware of other voices around me now. All I want is to get the
hell out of here.
“Bro, man, you look all
spaced out.” His concerned face hovers over mine.
“I’m fine, I don’t need
help.” I start to lift my head again, ignoring the slight, sudden blur to my
vision.
He sighs. “All right, let’s
get you up.” Holding me under my armpits, Adam helps me to sit up and then
kneels behind me with his knee against my back. If I suffer in silence, I’ll
get the fuck out of here a lot sooner.
As I take off my helmet, the
cool San Francisco air licks at my face. Oh, yeah, that’s better. Where is she?
I survey the area around me, spotting a couple of bystanders at the edge of the
road, light traffic passing behind them, but I can’t find the girl. Where is
she?
Appearing before me, mesmerizing
toffee-brown eyes and ...
pink
hair. Like cotton candy; straight, silky
strands all the way down to her shoulders.
A funky angel sent
especially for me.
“I could ask the guy over there
to dial nine-one-one,” she says to Adam. She scans my face and jacket-covered
torso, and swiftly returns her attention to my brother. “He doesn’t seem to
have a scratch on him, from what I can see, maybe it’s just a concussion. I …
I’m so sorry, it all happened so fast, and the jerk who caused it rode off. I’m
really sorry.”
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault.
You’re right, though, he doesn’t look too bad. Bro, talk to me, you cool?” he
asks, clasping my uninjured arm.
“Yeah, don’t call anyone, I’m
good,” I say to him, with my gaze fixed on her, crouching in front of me. The
tiny frown between her eyebrows softens and her striking, full lips curve up at
the corners.
It’s the sweetest smile I’ve
ever seen.
“I’m not dead?” I ask her.
I’m not so sure what’s real right about now, but I hope to God she is.
“No, you’re definitely not
dead. If you’re dead, then we’re both dead,” she says pointing at herself, then
my brother. “I’m pretty sure we’re not dead, though.” She giggles.
She even laughs like an
angel.
I start to get up, and Adam
rises with me, shadowing me. Help isn’t necessary; my head and shoulder hurt,
but I feel all right, considering. I can’t say much about my appearance, but
inebriated conditions have left me feeling a shitload worse than this, and I
survived those.
As I straighten myself out,
I can truly see her. She’s a cute, little bundle of hotness, barely reaching
the height of my shoulders. And damn that’s an adorable nose, with a tiny stud
matching the color of her hair.
She’s incredible.
“Shall I give you my
insurance information, just in case? He seems fine, but I don’t know about the
bike,” she says to Adam.
“Nah, don’t worry about it.
We’ll deal with things,” he says.
“If
you’re sure.”
Her uncertain gaze flicks
my way. “I really hope you’re okay.” She turns and starts walking to her car. I
want to stop her, say something to her, but other people are now approaching me
with concern.
Once more, she looks at me,
before getting into her white vintage VW Beetle Cabriolet.
And just like that … gone.
My angel
with no name.
