Prologue
Lucas
I just lost my half of five billion dollars.
Five. Billion. Fucking dollars.
I crushed the phone in my hand, but the voicemail chimed in my brain like church bells at midnight. It was probably the same message my brother just got.
“Your father is dying. The inheritance is no longer yours or your brother’s. If you want a chance at that money, you’re going to have to play by some… unconventional rules.”
Rules? Fuck that!
I didn’t get this far by following anyone’s rules.
“Only one of you can win,” The message said. “The other gets nothing.”
But I did know one thing: if this really was a competition between my brother and I for the whole King fortune, I was going to win.
That’s probably exactly what Richard is saying right now too. He and I hate each other, we have for years.
With my hand throbbing, I flexed my fingers. The final sentence of that damn message had flipped my life upside down and kicked it down the fucking sidewalk.
“Good luck, Lucas. You’re going to need it.”
One thing’s for sure, our sleepy town of Caldwell Hope is in for a rude awakening.
When the King brothers come back home all hell’s breaking loose.
Chapter 1
Lucas
“Excuse me,” the woman’s voice was as sweet and distant as a pleasant dream.
Grass beneath me, the sounds of cars busily rushing by, the briskly intermittent breeze and the bathing warmth of the sun.
Fuck, I was outside.
I hated waking up outside.
The birds were the worst pressure point on my massive hangover. Their sharp tweets cut through my ears like an ice pick.
“Hello, shirtless man? You can't be here,” said the voice more insistently. Was I still dreaming? It sounded way too familiar to be anything but a dream.
I covered my face, fighting the waking world, determined to go back to sleep. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew that it was way too damn early for me to be coherent.
“Excuse me,” the woman repeated, getting closer. She was trying to hide the bookish timidity from her voice.
That voice was crazy familiar...
“For Christ's sake you're excused.” I grumbled as loudly as I could, shifting my arm to further shield my face the relentless sunlight. “Now let me sleep.”
She scoffed at my bluntness.
The kick in the ribs I received wasn't bookish or sweet.
“Fuck me, that's a rude way to treat a guest.” I recoiled, rolling away onto my stomach. My long, dirty-blond hair cascaded down both sides of my face as I lifted myself from a push up position. Once I got my knees under me I shot a quick glance at her, but my eyes hadn't adjusted fully so I only caught a glimpse before the intensity of the sun forced me to look away.
Her long, layered, brown hair had soft curls and was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a slight, yet athletic frame, and wore a gray dress. Was that the glint of glasses I saw?
Wasn't the girl last night a redhead? I also didn't remember her being this gorgeous...
“Rude?! Guest?!” Her tone screamed the gall of this man!
That didn't make any sense. I distinctly remember being invited to the party last night by a few fans. They wanted me here. Why was I being yelled at?
My ears were still faintly humming from all the music I had played.
I carelessly rubbed my sore chest and abs to get off the matted grass and dirt. It was a useless effort; all my tattoos made the mess impossible to see, let alone brush off. I desperately needed a shower. I cocked my head to the side, and through my hanging hair caught the pretty brunette gawking.
She could try to hide it, but I could tell that she liked what she saw. Damn right, I thought. I don’t work out five times a week to not look good.
“Yeah, guest. You invited me.” My long hair blanketed my head like an overturned mop. With the speed and precision of someone who was just hit by a car, I grabbed the wadded fabric in my back pocket and pulled out a purple G-string. “These are yours aren’t they?”
“Eww, no! And this is school property. No one invited you to sleep here!”
“What?” I flipped my hair back and took in the surroundings. If they weren't hers, then where the hell was I?
The long rectangular building loomed nearby, obviously some kind of school. I spotted the playground peeking out from the back of the nicely remodeled building.
Oh wonderful. I'm shirtless and reeking of booze in front of an elementary school. Definitely not one of the high points of my life... Yeah, this won't make it into my autobiography. I was glad it was Saturday.
At least I hoped it was Saturday...
Either way there were no children around, thankfully. Although, I'd probably make a good example of what not to do when you grow up.
Then it got worse. I spotted the name on the building—Matt Baker Elementary school. Matt Baker. That's where I was?
“Oh shit…” I muttered. That's why she looked and sounded so familiar.
“Your eyes... Hazel,” she said in wistful tones, not trusting her own eyes.
My face puckered up and my eyes clamped shut as if bracing for a hit. Stupidity always hurt much more than physical pain. Of all the places I could've drunkenly stumbled last night, why'd I pick here?
I fucked up. Bad.
“Luke?” Molly Baker gasped; the dream of her past finally becoming real.
Just waking up, being hung over and crashing in an unfamiliar place was a perfect storm for my brain to be a fucking wreck. Still... There was no excuse. I should've known much sooner.
I'd heard that voice every night while I slept for ten long years.
I snapped my eyes open and saw her. Really saw her. Suddenly I was as awake as someone who got a shot of adrenaline straight to the vein. My heart began to claw its way into the back of my throat.
It really was her...
She was impossibly prettier than I remembered.
“Molly.” The name tumbled from my lips. I needed a few more lifetimes to figure what to say to her. I'm sorry. I didn't know. It wasn't my choice to leave you. Every day I wanted to come back for you.
Every single day.
I knew every inch of Molly's sun-kissed skin and the way her light freckles were only visible in some light. Her lips were glossy pink pillows made of clouds on a perfect afternoon and her eyes were the color of amber at dusk.
I'd always thought about what this moment would be like if it ever happened. I'd planned it a thousand times in a thousand ways. Sometimes she'd be walking by when I'd stop her and tell her how much I missed her. Other times I'd just show up at her door, and ask her out so I could explain everything. Every time I met her in my head it was on my terms and usually with a bouquet of flowers.
So much for best laid plans…
I at least thought I'd have more clothes on when we met.
“Molly I—” the crack of her knuckles stole the rest of my sentence and snapped my head back.
“Ow, shit. That hurt!” Molly's arm recoiled. She scowled, shaking the pain out of her hand.
“OK, I deserved that.” I wiped the blood trickling down my nose. It was a good punch, but she didn't break anything. It did however kick my headache into overdrive. Fortunately it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Especially not when there was so much to say.