Always Enough (Enough Series #2) Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by Stacy Borel

  Cover Design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Editing by Ryn Hughes, Delphi Rose & Trish Kuper

  Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  This book goes to any kid that has had to deal with an absent parent. We unfortunately are group of many, but I can only hope you all have persevered and have come out on top despite life’s circumstances.

  My eyes open to the sound of yelling in the next room. Hiding my head under my covers, I put my hands over my ears trying to block it out. I sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and ‘I’m A Little Teapot’ over and over. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again and I hate it. They’ve been fighting a lot more than they usually do and it’s been a lot louder too. Daddy has been gone a lot and I sometimes find Mommy sitting on the floor in their room crying while listening to Journey and Heart records.

  I jump when I hear something hard hit the wall that connects my bedroom with theirs. Frozen in fear, I lie there motionless, listening. Another loud thump follows, and my Mommy yells at Daddy and tells him to get out. I’m shaking as I slowly crawl out of my bed and tiptoe to the door and listen with my ear against the cold wood. Daddy must have been gone again tonight and come home later than Mommy thought he would.

  “Get out, Stan! Don’t you ever set foot in my house again! Your cheating ass is never going to see me or your daughter again. Do you understand me?” My mother shrieked.

  I pull my bedroom door open a slit so I can peek out into the living room where their fight had moved. My mom pushes my dad out of the front door. Her arms are full of his clothes and she tosses them out after him. With my heart hammering in my chest, I open my door the whole way and walk to my mom’s side. Unable to comprehend the significance of what was happening, I call out to my dad who is on his hands and knees in the front yard begging my mom not to do this to him.

  “Daddy, where are you going? Don’t leave me and Mommy,” I cry after him.

  “Harper, baby, go back to your room,” my mom instructs, grabbing my shoulder and trying to maneuver me behind her.

  My dad crawls towards my mom, his eyes bloodshot. He glances at me and then back to my mother. “You can’t keep her away from me. She’s my kid too, Rena.”

  “The hell I can’t. Look at you, you’re high on lord knows what, and you smell like you’ve been with another one of your drug whores. You can’t even take care of yourself, let alone your kid. Get the hell off my lawn, Stan, before I call the cops.” My mom’s voice shakes through her tears.

  “Please, Rena, just give me another chance?” My dad begs, crawling closer to where my mom stands in the doorway.

  I stand there behind my Mom’s leg, watching my parents’ marriage fall apart. I cry and call out over and over again, “I’ll be a good girl, Daddy. Please don’t leave me, Daddy!” My mom pulls me even further into the living room and shuts the door on my dad.

  “Mommy, nooo …!”

  Sitting up abruptly and gasping for air, I looked around the dark space trying to remember where I was. Flicking on the bedside light, I instinctually knew I was in my room, but my head was still foggy from the nightmare. My heart fluttered in my chest, and sweat made my hair stick to my forehead. Glancing down I saw that the skin above my heaving chest was glistening. Flinging the covers off of myself I got up and made my way to the bathroom attached to the master bedroom. The cool water I splashed on my face helped to shake the dream. Peeking up at the mirror I could see my alarm clock in the reflection—only twenty minutes until I had to be up for work anyway.

  “It was just a dream, Harper,” I said out loud, looking myself over. Except I knew better than to believe it was just a bad dream. It was a memory that had haunted me for the past twenty-seven years. The radio on my alarm clock started blaring in my room, and I realized I’d zoned out. Not wanting to dwell on the dream any longer, I went back in my room and shut off the alarm.

  After getting showered and dressed I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. Unplugging my iPhone from its charger, I sat down and went through my messages. Work never ended for me. I was the busiest real estate agent in Southeast Idaho. At any given point I had forty to fifty clients to give my full attention to. Between drawing up contracts, showing homes, and working with builders, I barely had time to breathe. I’d built my life this way for a reason. Working hard—and playing even harder—was something I lived by. I had a beautiful home that I worked my ass off for, a closet full of shoes, and a bank account that I could live off for the next five years if I didn’t lift another finger.

  I was the sole owner of my own company. I’d started Harper Realty six years ago. I had over thirty people working under me, and I knew I needed to hire at least another two realtors to keep up with demand. My day started at five-thirty every single morning and didn’t end until almost midnight. Most people couldn’t survive on my schedule, but I’d conditioned myself to work every waking minute. If I stopped, I had too much time to think, and thinking could be bad. Thinking meant I remembered that I came home to an empty house. It meant that I had time to think about being alone. And just because I didn’t like to be alone, didn’t mean I wasn’t used to having it that way.. Why fix what wasn’t broken?

  My cell went off just as I was about to take a sip of my coffee. “Jesus! It’s not even seven and they’re already calling,” I grumbled to myself.

  “Harper Graham,” I said in greeting.

  “Hi, Ms. Graham.” It was Suzy, my receptionist. “I was calling to remind you of your early showing this morning at eight-thirty. You having a meeting to close on the Oak Street house at nine-fifteen, and then you have another showing at ten-thirty.”

  “Suzy, are you calling me from your house?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She sounded hesitant.

  “You could wait until you’re in the office to call me, you know? I don’t want you overworking yourself.”

  “I know, Ms. Graham, but I don’t mind. You have a very busy schedule, and I enjoy helping you keep on task.” I heard a child in the background.

  “Suzy, please call me Harper. And I didn’t know you had kids. How many do you have?” I felt like an ass because she’d been working for me for five months and I didn’t know anything about her.

  “I have just one child.”

  “You should bring him by the office sometime so I can say hello. I keep a stash of suckers in my drawer for kids.”
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  I could almost hear her smile through the phone and what sounded like a sigh of relief. Was I that intimidating? “I definitely will. Thank you, Ms. Graham.”

  “It’s Harper, Suzy. And you can relax, I don’t bite. I’ll see you in the office in a little bit. Thanks for the reminders.”

  “You’re welcome, Harper.”

  With that we hung up, and I spent another ten minutes sipping my coffee and scrolling through some unread emails. I paused when I saw an email from Kyler. I’d been getting emails and texts from him almost daily for the past three months. I stopped reading them shortly after he started sending them. He used to call too, but stopped when he realized I wouldn’t answer. Not that I was answering his texts or emails either. Ky and I had gotten together for a brief time while Emilyn and Finley were working their shit out. Prior to that we had hooked up every once in a while but kept it quiet, since we were unsure what we were even doing with each other. It hadn’t taken long to realize that Ky wanted more from me. I didn’t do relationships, but for him I had been willing to give it a shot. He’d told me the evening when we left the hospital after Em had lost her baby that he wanted to “define what we were doing.”

  Things had been going really well, but then he was asked to go on tour with the band Down Glory Road. Ky told me that nothing had to change, and we could Skype, text, call, email. He was even willing to fly me out to whatever town he would be performing in. As much as I had really considered it, I knew it just wouldn’t work. I led a very busy life, and I wasn’t about to play second fiddle to a band on tour, wondering if my man was shacking up with some groupie whore at the end of each night. I’d told Kyler that we weren’t working and he needed to head out on the road, as a single man. I’ll never forget that night for as long as I live. He was pissed at first. He had thrown his hands up in the air and yelled and cursed a blue streak. He begged me not to do this to him, to us, but he must have seen the resolve in my eyes. I had no intentions of budging. He stared and said that we weren’t over, and that was the last thing he said before he walked away. I’ve heard from him every day since. The first few emails that I did read were all about what he had been doing, where they were performing, how exhilarating it had been standing in front of those huge crowds.

  He also included how much he missed me.

  I was glad that he seemed to be having a good time, but I didn’t want to know that he missed me. I’d made up my mind that he must be with a new girl every night. Why wouldn’t he? I was a red-blooded female, and I could see how hot he was. There was only so long that a man could say no. I started deleting the emails after that, not even bothering to open and read them. With my finger hovering over the delete button, I tapped it and got up from the table. I had work to do. I headed out the door and made my way across town to get the house ready to show.

  I got to the Meadow Estates subdivision and pulled up to the house that I was working to sell. I was more than happy selling homes in this area of town because they showed well. Finn had bought a home in this area a few months back. The neighbors kept their yards manicured, and the curb appeal was a dream for both the buyer, and the realtor selling it. When a house in this area went on the market it usually took less than a month a sell. I was certain the couple that I was meeting would be putting in an offer. They were eager to purchase since their lease was going to be up in just over a month.

  Pulling up the driveway, I got out and walked up the stone path to the front door. The home was vacant and there was a lock box on the front door. While I was putting in the combination, my cell phone started ringing. I swear to god if it was the couple calling to tell me they need to reschedule, fuck the commission, I was going to dump them on Bruce—my newest employee who was struggling to make sales. Pulling out my phone, I saw the name “Michael” on the screen.

  Michael Brandt was a good friend. We’d hooked up on occasion, and he’d helped me get Harper Realty off the ground. He was a good-looking guy, not as hot as Ky, but I was certainly attracted to him. I hated to call him a “fuck buddy”, but it was inevitable that when we got together our clothes would come off.

  “Well good morning, stranger,” I said in a flirtatious voice.

  “Hey beautiful, what are you doing?”

  I was walking through the empty house, turning on lights and making sure that it was lit up. A dark house didn’t sell as well as one with natural light, or one that was brightly lit.

  “I’m about to show a house, how about yourself?”

  I could hear his smile through the phone. “Well, I was sitting here thinking about you and wondering if you would let me take you out tonight?”

  Not even needing to think about it, I said yes. “What time will you be by?”

  “I can come pick you up at seven and we can go try that new place Mexican restaurant in Twin Falls. Sound good?” He sounded so confident it was sexy.

  “I’ll be ready by seven,” I told him.

  “Great. See you later, beautiful.”

  Michael had that way about him—he didn’t just say I was beautiful; he made me feel like I was beautiful. He commanded your attention, be he also gave his own back, one hundred percent.

  Despite the house being vacant, there were two bar stools still at the kitchen counter. I sat down and waited for my couple to show. When they finally did, they loved the house and decided that they wanted to make an offer—just as I knew they would. I told them I’d call the listing agent and make the offer, and be in touch. After shutting off all the lights in the house, I got in my car and made my way back to the office.

  The day continued right on track as far as my appointments went, and I even managed to stay on time—a rarity for me. It was six forty-five when I looked up at the clock. “Fuck, I’m going to be late,” I said to myself, shutting down my computer and walking through the now empty office. I was always the last one to leave. I didn’t want anybody else to be responsible for locking my businesses doors besides me. Making a quick call to Michael on my way home, I let him know I was running about thirty minutes late but he was more than welcome to come and hang out while I got ready. I shook my head. Of course I managed to be on time all day, but when it came to doing something for myself I was late.

  Go figure.

  The food at the restaurant was delicious and I would for sure be going back. Michael looked just as appetizing as the ‘melt in your mouth’ fried ice cream I ate for dessert. And that was pretty good if you asked me because fried ice cream was my very favorite treat. We’d just pulled up to my place when Michael got out of the car and walked me up the steps to my front door. He leaned in to kiss me, lightly touching his lips to mine.

  “Mmm … you’re coming in.” It was a statement, not a question.

  He smiled against my lips. “So bossy. What if I say no?”

  “Not a chance in hell, Brandt. You smell good, look good, and I need to get laid.” I grabbed him by the tie and dragged him into my house, kicking the door shut with my heel.

  Walking me backwards, he pushed my back against the wall of my entryway. I looked up at him, and marveled at his gorgeous face—he looked like he wanted to devour me. Michael was six foot one, with strong cheekbones and bright blue eyes. His hair was a little grown out, but still shorter than Kyler’s, and a lighter brown. He was wearing a gray, button-down dress shirt, and black slacks. He always dressed nicely because of his job. He helped companies get off the ground and a good presence was necessary. I loved a man in a suit—the total opposite of how Ky dressed everyday, and what he performed in on stage. God, I needed to shake the thoughts of Ky from my head.

  Running one of his hands down my hip, he reached to grip my thigh to wrap around him. I moaned as he ground his pelvis into me. I could feel his erection pushing just above where I needed him to be. His other hand held the back of my neck, tilting my head so he could deepen the kiss. As dominant as I could be during my everyday life, I loved a man who took charge in the bedroom—or against a wall as it happened to be rig
ht then.

  My hands wove into his hair and gripped the short spikes as I moaned into his mouth. He took that as his cue to lift my body up, forcing my other leg up to around his hips. My breath came in short pants as I started to unbutton his shirt, running my hands up and down his chest. His mouth nipped and sucked a trail from my mouth to my chin, and over to my earlobe.

  I scratched my nails down his front and he hissed. “Fuck, Harper,” he growled, sliding my dress up so he could hold my bare ass. Who needed underwear anyway?

  I heard a sound in the distance, but I was so preoccupied I didn’t care what it was, or where it was coming from. Continuing to kiss Michael, I had just bitten down on his lip, when he pulled away, frustrated by the interruption. “Your cell phone keeps ringing. Maybe you should answer it?”

  I whined as I slid my legs back down until my feet touched the floor. Reaching over toward the entry table, I grabbed my phone. Christ, I was wet. I was going to murder whoever it was. Seeing I had three missed calls from Em and a text from Finn, my head cleared.

  Finn: Em’s in labor. She needs you. Call me!

  “Oh shit,” I whispered as I looked through my contacts and found Finn’s number.

  Michael came up behind me to ask what was going on.

  “Em’s in labor. I have to go.”

  He’d seemed disgruntled when we were first interrupted but hearing my news, he started smiling. “Well hot damn! That’s great news. I’ll drive you to the airport.” Michael adored Finn and Em.

  I called Finn to find out how Em was doing, letting him know I was catching the first flight out and I’d be there in a few hours. My best friend was having a baby and I needed to be there for her. I was going to be an Aunt … wow. Michael drove me all the way to Boise and told me to give the new parents a “Congratulations” hugs from him. A short hour later, I was on a flight to Los Angeles. I was still reeling from my ‘almost sexathon’ evening that it was cut short, but becoming an aunt was worth the buzz kill.