Dear Desmond: a Christmas Love Letter (Love Letters Book 4) Read online

  “Damn it, woman, I won’t take no for an answer! Now, get your ass ready, I’ll pack your suitcase. You know they won’t leave you behind! Fuck, you got this chick!” Chelsie winked as she sashayed out of the room to go looking in the hall closet for Sol’s suitcase.

  Sol looked around the room she’d been staying in since she’d arrived in Spokane, after ditching her ex-boyfriend a few months earlier. Chelsie had been there for her, and now she was coming to her rescue again. Sol would never be able to repay Chelsie for everything she had done

  ♫♪♫♪

  Four hours later, Sol still couldn’t believe her good luck. Chelsie was the freaking best! She’d have to remember to thank her before she took off. Sol and Chelsie had promised to meet after the show at the rear of the arena, by the tour buses.

  Spokane was the next destination on Green Tantrum’s tour and Sol wanted to get out of dodge before they arrived. So, naturally — when she needed to dump this town, this state, and get away — Chelsie had the answer.

  Addison Crow was the most desirable route for her to do it and she was going to do what she needed to ensure she was on their tour bus. This performance was the perfect scenario. Sol shook her head as she remembered what brought her to this point.

  David had been her everything, and then her annihilation. She was a groupie, and he was the lead vocalist of his band. She couldn’t believe he had persuaded her into staying with him for six months. It was the longest she had been in one relationship in years. But, she had been prepared to part with the transient life for him. Until Reno.

  Reno left a bad taste in her mouth that she wanted to get rid of. Wiping her tongue across her teeth, she made a face and spat on the ground at her feet, narrowly avoiding the person standing in front of her.

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  Molly: Part One by Tracy Lorraine

  Chapter 1

  (Snippet)

  Molly

  It’s now midnight and I’ve been sat here on Ryan’s doorstep for nearly an hour. Although it was a scorching summer’s day, the heat has now worn off, the clouds have gathered, and it is lumping it down with rain. I’m trying to tuck myself into his little porch to stop me getting so wet, but with the wind direction it’s not doing much good. I’m soaked though. I’m thinking now that it was a silly idea to pick white t-shirts when I rebranded the coffee shop; thank God for padded bras so everything can’t be seen through the wet material.

  By the time I’d cleaned and locked up the coffee shop, it was just gone ten. I love working at Cocoa’s and have done since I was sixteen. Hannah and Emma’s parents own it. Susan started the business after she finished university. She came into some inheritance and with the money Cocoa’s was born. The place was a huge part of my childhood. Hannah, Emma and I would go there after school to do homework or just chat about boys, and it pretty much stayed that way until we finished university. We still have a booth in the back corner dedicated to us.

  I will forever be grateful for Susan and her husband Pete, who she actually met as a customer in Cocoa’s. It was love at first sight for them; not only did they give me a job, but they had taken me under their wing when I was much younger. They are wonderful people and I wish they were my parents.

  Megan, who works in the evenings, had a phone call from her boyfriend at eight o’clock saying their little boy was really sick. I let her go home to be with him and finished up the rest of the night on my own.

  Once I got in my car to drive home, all I could think about was having a nice hot bath with a glass of wine and snuggling into my bed. I live in a tiny one bed flat with my boyfriend Max. We’ve have been together on and off for the past three years, but when Hannah, who I had lived with above the coffee shop, decided eight months ago she wanted her boyfriend to move into the flat, I decided it was time I moved out and left them to it. Max had suggested I move in with him. I wasn’t thrilled by the idea to be honest, but at the time I didn’t have the energy to sort out finding a place to live. I hate being alone. I would have had to find someone who was renting out a room anyway, so it seemed like a sensible suggestion and I guess a logical step in our relationship.

  So a week after I made the decision, we all moved. Me into Max’s flat, and Hannah’s boyfriend into the one she and I had shared for the past six years. Emma also lived with us for three of those but when she decided to stay on at university and do her Masters, she moved back home to save money. Not that it was a huge issue for her, as her parents owned the flat and refused to take any rent from us, but she was happier going home.

  The short ten-minute drive to our flat seemed to take forever. I pulled up out the front and thought it was weird to be parking next to Max’s car. He had worked nights the whole time I’d known him, and I was expecting him to be working tonight. They were always messing about with his shifts so they had obviously changed it again at the last minute.

  I dragged my body up the stairs to the third floor and let myself in. I shut the door behind me and saw that the only light on was coming from the bedroom. My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard voices and strange noises coming from down the hallway. As quietly as I could, I tiptoed towards the room so I could see what was going on.

  When I got to the door, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Now, I knew Max was no angel, but I was under the impression that we had put the past behind us when we decided to live together and had become a monogamous couple. Yes, the past few months had been a strain, but still. What was happening before my eyes on our bed showed me clearly how wrong I was.

  I needed to get out of there as soon as possible, so I slipped back down the hallway, grabbed a couple of pairs of knickers that, luckily for me, were drying on the radiator, and I got out of the flat immediately.

  I tried to keep myself together as I made a pit stop at a shop on my way to Ryan’s house. I didn’t want to be one of those crying emotional women standing down the alcohol aisle, trying to decide which bottle will numb her pain the best.

  Once I paid for two bottles of my favourite wine and a crate of lager for Ryan, I made my way over to his new house. He only moved in two weeks ago, although it was months ago that he made the decision to buy the three-story town house in the new development that was going up on the outskirts of the city. It was basically a pile of bricks when he took me with him to see it for the first time, but I could see why he had fallen in love with it from the moment I saw the plot and the plans. It was going to be a modern spacious house, with amazing views across fields from the back, but from the front you could see all the lights from the city in the distance. Because it was yet to be finished, it meant Ryan had the chance to choose a lot of the interior to suit his taste. This was perfect for him, as he didn’t want to spend his whole summer decorating and making the house his home.

  I parked around the back of the house by the garage so that when Ryan got home, he could still park in his usual spot out the front. This meant having to wait for him at his front door, which was fine until the weather changed.

  When I’d text him earlier in the day to wish him a good last day of term, he said he was going out for a meal with his colleagues this evening but it wouldn’t be a late one as a number of his work mates were going on holiday together and their plane was stupidly early in the morning, so they had a curfew. As it’s now midnight, I’m guessing that didn’t really go to plan.

  I’m starting to think I should have gone somewhere else. It’s not that I don’t have any other options but out of all my friends and family Ryan knows me the best, what we have been through this year has made us close. I think I could say he’d turned into my best friend somewhere in the last six months. I hope he feels the same and lets me stay.

  The longer I sit here, the more I think that maybe I should have stayed in my car, but then I remember the layout of the house wouldn’t allow me to see when he’s back, and I really don’t want to spend the night in my car. I love my little KA, it’s been great for the past two years, but it rea
lly isn’t a suitable bed.

  So I continue to wait him out, sitting here soaking wet and freezing cold with the images of what was happening on my bed flashing though my head. It’s not like I didn’t expect it to happen eventually. I’d had my suspicions for a while. I don’t even love Max; hell, I’m not even sure I really like him. I’m just so disappointed in myself for letting it happen, all because of my need to be loved and cared for.

  Eventually, the tears that I was holding in come flooding out, so to add to my misery I now have black mascara streaks running down my cheeks and red puffy eyes.

  Finally, I see headlights coming my way and Ryan’s white Honda Civic pulling on to his drive. At first, he looks shocked to see me, then he starts to look angry as he makes his way towards me. Maybe I did make the wrong decision coming here.

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  Stitched Up Heart by Tarina Deaton

  CHAPTER ONE

  (Snippet)

  Ugh. How many times had she asked him not to park in the carport? Her house. Her spot. How hard was that to understand?

  Bree stopped her SUV next to the walkway, giving Chad plenty of room to back out. She dropped her head to the steering wheel and banged it a couple times. One good thing about him showing up unannounced - now she didn’t have to call him to say we need to talk.

  Only she could go from planning on breaking up with a guy a month ago to being engaged to him. She lifted her head and sighed. “Time to put your big girl panties on, Marks.”

  Turning off the ignition, she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and got out. She detoured into the yard to pick up the circular before trudging up the porch steps. Odd - the front door was unlocked. Why did he unlock the front door if he parked on the side of the house? Why wouldn’t he just use the side door?

  Bree stumbled and slammed her hip into the edge of the foyer table. “Ow! Shit.” She looked to see what she had tripped over.

  Those were not her stripper shoes. Even if she owned a pair of six-inch platform stilettos, those were about three sizes too small. What the hell?

  “Chad?” She dropped her bag on the foyer table and walked through the foyer into the open concept living room, kitchen, and breakfast nook. His sports coat hung on the back of one of the kitchen stools. She turned left and walked down the short hall to the bedrooms. Just outside her room she heard his voice, “Oh, baby,” followed by a high-pitched moan.

  I swear, if he is fucking some bitch in my bed, I’m going to cut off his cock.

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