With Every Breath Read online

  Title: With Every Breath

  Series: a River Bend novel

  18+ adult content and language

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Niecey Roy

  River Mist Media

  Cover Art by RBA Designs

  Image by Eric Battershell Photography

  Models Justine Moore & Joshua Scott Brown

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Niecey Roy’s Website

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical artifcles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher/editor does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Niecey Roy’s Novels

  Another Shot At Love “All the elements for a fun, sassy romance: a sexy hero and the unbreakable bond of sisterhood. Delightful!” ~Bestselling Author Kate Perry

  Another Shot At Love “Funny, sassy, sexy and brilliant book...Absolute Must Read!!!” ~Amy from Schmexy Girls Book Blog

  “Crazy sisters, best friends, a slimy ex, and a gorgeously sexy sweet man. Who wouldn’t want Another Shot at Love?” ~Stacy Nickelson, It Started With A Book Blog

  Fender Bender Blues “Classic cars, garden gnomes, and steamy romance? My kind of book!” ~Bestselling Author Kate Perry

  “Reading Niecey Roy’s Fender Bender Blues is like eating Lays Potato chips. Once you start, you can’t stop! It’s just that good! For a new (non-fattening) addiction, read Niecey Roy!!!” ~Robyn Peterman author of HOW HARD CAN IT BE?

  “Fender Bender Blues is a rip-roarin’ good time from start to finish. Filled with handsome men, crazy friends, and love scenes to rev up your engines, you don’t want to miss this one!” ~Amie Louellen author of Brodie’s Bride and Love Potion Me, Baby

  “If you’re not a romance lover you’ve got to pick up Niecey Roy. I’m in-love with the way she writes romance. Thanks to her, I no longer cringe at the romance section.” ~Kristi Chambers, Kristi’s Book Readery

  Other Titles by Niecey Roy

  River Bend Series

  With Every Breath

  What’s Love??? Series

  Another Shot At Love

  Done With Love

  Reluctantly In Love

  Single-Title

  Fender Bender Blues

  DEDICATION

  For my husband.

  My heart is yours to love forever.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The howl of the power tool in Cole Brooks’ grip muffled the ringing phone across the shop. He released his finger from the trigger and the grinder whirred to a stop. Easing back from the ‘55 Chevy, paint chips and metal shavings fell from his worn out jeans and Metallica T-shirt, dusting the concrete floor. He glanced over to his friend wrenching nearby under the hood of a GTO.

  “You gonna get that?” Cole called out over the heavy metal playing from inside Trey’s GTO.

  “Ain’t my shop. I’m your guest, remember?” Trey kept wrenching.

  “Guest, my ass. More like intruder.” Cole set the grinder down and stood; his ankles and shins protested. He’d been squatting beside the old pickup most of the day.

  Trey leaned out from under the GTO’s hood and turned, a smear of grease across his cheek and a grin on his face. “You’re lucky I’m still your friend. No one understands why I put up with a moody fucker like you.”

  “And no one understands why I hang out with a degenerate like you.” Cole grinned and flipped him off as he passed, moving toward the phone across the shop at a tired pace, his ankles sore. He hadn’t slept much in the past few days, not since he and Trey had trailered the pickup back to Cole’s body shop, Brooks Customs. “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m only twenty-nine, my body isn’t supposed to hate me this much.”

  “Who’s calling your phone? Thought it wasn’t listed.” Trey tucked his head back under the hood.

  “It’s not listed.” No one called the landline; Cole’s cellphone was listed as the business number.

  Cole swiped the phone off the hook. “Brooks Customs.”

  “I’ve been trying to call you for the last five minutes. Why aren’t you answering your cellphone?”

  The irritation in his sister’s voice brought a smile to his lips. “Must’ve left it in the car. Didn’t know I’d be on call today.”

  “Is that your sister?” Trey popped out from under the hood again. “Tell her to bring us a six pack.”

  Cole waved him off.

  “You’re always on call,” Mia said. “This is an emergency. Someone could die.”

  “You’re being especially dramatic today. Special occasion?” He leaned back against the wooden workbench.

  “She’s always dramatic,” Trey said.

  “Dramatic is her middle name.” Cole grinned. His sister would soon lose patience. Good. Maybe she’d quit calling him for ridiculous reasons during work hours.

  “Who’s that?” Mia asked.

  “Trey.”

  “Tell him to shut it,” Mia huffed.

  “She said to shut it,” Cole told Trey.

  “Your sister still has the hots for me. It’s cute, but tell her I don’t dig married chicks.” Trey wiped the sweat from his brow. “Jesus, it’s hotter than hell in here.”

  “When you pay the utilities, you can crank the AC,” Cole said.

  “Cole,” Mia said with a heavy sigh.

  “Mia.” Cole switched the receiver to his other ear. He hated talking on the phone. It made him antsy, reminded him of all the work he wasn’t getting done. It wasn’t often he made time to work on his own projects, but he had a couple of weeks until a client dropped off a coupe for body work.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Emergency.”

  “So am I.” He lifted his brows. “You called me instead of 911, so I’m thinking this isn’t a real emergency, just a Mia emergency.”

  “Shit, one of those?” Trey laughed. He dropped the wrench and it clanged against the cement. Bending to retrieve the tool, he said, “How many Mia emergencies does she have each week?”

  Cole blew out a sigh. “At least five.”

  “Um, no. It’s a real emergency. Jerk. I need you to go rescue someone from possible heat stroke.”

  “And you can’t do the rescuing because...” Owning his own business had its perks. He could leave as needed, any time of day. It didn’t mean he was on call to run errands for his little sister. Mia was the owner of her own event-planning business, which meant she could run her own errands too.

  “My hair’s up in tinfoil.”

  “I don’t even know what that means, Mia.”

  “I’m at the salon.”

  She was always at the salon, or shopping, or some other place women liked to spend time and money, which didn’t need to affect his life. Cole cracked his neck to the left, then the right—man, he felt old. “And?”

  “I can’t leave for another twenty-five minutes. I’ll owe you, I promise.”

  He smirked. “I have a drawer full of IOUs with your na
me on them already. The drawer doesn’t even close anymore.”

  “Cole.”

  “All right, all right. Who am I rescuing?” Mia’s silence made him squint with suspicion. “Mia?”

  “Okay, so the who might be a teensy-tiny problem.”

  “Oh?” He drew the word out. “And how’s that?”

  “The last time she saw you she said, and I quote, ‘I can’t wait to never see you again.’”

  Those words weren’t something he’d forget.

  “But I wouldn’t worry about that now,” she rushed on. “It’s been six years and all.”

  There were a few women from Cole’s past who’d had similar sentiments, his soon to be ex-wife included. But there was only one friend of Mia’s with whom he’d messed around.

  Jaden Miller.

  His pulse quickened, working up to a sprint.

  “What’s she doing back in town?”

  “Who?” Trey asked, but Cole ignored him.

  Visions of the one who got away flew through his mind like a slingshot on repeat. Even though she was Mia’s best friend, he hadn’t expected to see her again. River Bend, Nebraska, had never been her favorite place to begin with, and she hadn’t been back since Mia’s wedding. Six years. His heart stuttered before it beat a rapid staccato in his chest.

  “Why she’s back isn’t important. What’s important is that her rental car ran out of gas. She thinks she’s about six miles outside of town. Can you go get her?”

  “I’ll go.” He transferred weight from one foot to the other, antsy to hang up even though one truth was certain: “I’m the last person she cares to see, I’m sure.”

  Trey glanced over his shoulder with widened eyes. “Shit, is Jaden back?”

  Cole answered with a slight nod before he turned his back to Trey. All the thoughts racing inside his head were too private to think in front of anyone. She’s back.

  “She’s not mad anymore. That was ages ago.” Mia’s tone softened the way it did whenever she worried his feelings would be hurt. “Jaden’s not a jerk. I explained everything to her after it happened—she understood.”

  She couldn’t. Not really.

  “I guess that’s something.”

  There’d be no way Jaden could know how much he missed her, how much he wished he could have gone after her. She was the first woman he ever loved. He couldn’t remember ever wanting someone so badly. There’d been no one else for him, not like Jaden, not since her. Then, the moment the possibility appeared, it was gone. Life happened—an event he never expected, could never have predicted.

  He got a girl pregnant, and watched any chance with Jaden go up in flames, smoldering so thoroughly it had left him choking on the happiness he’d lost.

  And she’s back. Those words were on repeat now.

  “This is a great time to prove to her you’re not a womanizing asshole anymore.”

  Cole sniffed out an amused chuckle. “Wow, thanks. I love you too.”

  “Of course you do. I’m your favorite sister.”

  “You’re my only sister.”

  “That doesn’t even matter. Now, hurry up before she croaks.” Mia hung up.

  Cole returned the phone to its cradle, his mind on a pair of big blue eyes and pouty pink lips. Sometimes her face danced into his thoughts, even after all this time, always leaving behind an ache of what-might-have-been. Mia talked about her so much, he wouldn’t have been able to forget about her, even if he’d wanted to. There were photos of Jaden all over his sister’s house, memories of a chance he had to let slip away. His favorite was a picture of them dancing, a moment he’d never forget, when she’d gazed up into his face with a smile to drive any man to his knees, and he hadn’t been immune. For years he’d been ashamed to look at it, because looking at her image brought back feelings he shouldn’t have.

  So much had happened since then. A baby, marriage—six years. But, that chapter of his life was over now. The only thing left to do was to sign the papers.

  And now she’s back.

  He pulled the worn ball cap off his head. It was stained with sweat and car grease, and no matter how many times he washed it, the smell of oil wouldn’t go away. He tossed it onto the workbench and headed toward the shop door.

  “Hey, where you goin’?” Trey wiped his hands on a shop rag stained with oil.

  “I’m out to save a girl.” A smile crept over his lips. He stopped beside the intercom button on the wall and buzzed the paint booth at the back of the shop. “Hey, Kevin, I’m headed out. Close the shop up if I’m not back in a few hours. I’ll check out the ‘Vette’s paint job tomorrow morning.”

  “Man, just don’t bring a bottle of whiskey with you or she’ll dump it on your head.” Trey laughed with a shake of his head. “Like last time.”

  “It wasn’t a bottle of whiskey. It was a whiskey sour.” That night had been in his thoughts more often lately.

  When he was a kid, he’d been reckless and only out for a good time. He hadn’t given a second thought to breaking a girl’s heart. Until Jaden. He never would have imagined the two of them together—she was his little sister’s friend, someone he hadn’t paid much attention to. Falling in love with her had been a surprise; the idea of them together, of a future with her, had knocked him to the floor. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.

  Life could be a bitch, for sure.

  “Twenty bucks says she slaps you.”

  “I don’t think I can take that bet—I don’t like losing.” He headed out of the shop through the open bay door. “I’ll call you if I need an ambulance.”

  “Good luck, man,” Trey called after him. “Hey, tell her hi for me. Find out if she’s single.”

  “Not a chance in hell.” He grinned, his pulse erratic at the thought of seeing her again.

  Brooks Customs was a large metal Quonset he’d built three years ago behind his house. Every morning he rolled out of bed, made a pot of coffee, and carried it out back to the shop. It was a good life; a dream he’d worked hard for.

  He squinted against the blinding sun as he crossed the cement drive to step onto the lawn. Today was a bad day to be stranded, the humidity made it hard to breathe.

  He pulled his T-shirt off and stopped at the water spigot. The place had been his parents’ home, and the house Cole grew up in. Now it was his; his own little piece of paradise on the edge of town. He’d changed nothing but the cabinets and countertops inside.

  Cole scrubbed the grime and sweat from his face, then from his back and shoulders. He pulled a shop towel and a cutoff T-shirt from the clothes line in the yard as he passed, and towel dried his hair on the way to the Cutlass parked in the drive.

  The car roared to life. He was fourteen when his dad brought the car home, and it took them two years to restore. The day he turned sixteen, Jeremiah handed him the keys and said, “Don’t raise too much hell.”

  He pulled the T-shirt on over his head then backed out of the driveway.

  River Bend was a small town—sleepy until the tourist season. There weren’t many stops on the highway scenic route through the state, and the best views were around River Bend. Cole took a side street across town to the highway, waited for a semi to pass, then stepped on the gas. The engine opened up and he didn’t let off until the speedometer hit sixty. He kept an eye out for the woman he let walk out of his life six years ago without a good-bye or an explanation. Not that she would’ve cared for a good-bye at the time. Or that an explanation would have made her stay.

  He eased the Cutlass around a curve.

  Cole let his lips soften into a thoughtful smile. In what seemed like another lifetime, Jaden had always been around, but he never paid attention—until he did, and then she was everywhere, always on his mind. The first time he noticed her, she’d just graduated high school and he was in his second year of college. At the time, coming back home for the summer had seemed a waste of time, until he rounded the street corner and there she was, all grown up. Long tan legs swinging off the tailgate
of a pickup truck, her head thrown back with laughter, all that long dark hair curling in thick waves around her shoulders...

  Jaden wasn’t like the other girls Cole went after. She was Mia’s best friend, someone his parents thought of as family. Maybe that’s why he never paid attention, looking over her as he would any other member of their household. The moment he felt a spark of attraction for her, all that changed. He’d done a good job of keeping his head on around her, and his dick in his pants—a huge feat for Cole Brooks. He’d never been the kind of guy who let anything or anyone get in the way of him and a cute girl.

  Their time together went too fast, but the month they spent together before Mia's wedding was etched in his brain. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. The first time he stole a kiss was behind the family cabin—his whole world shook. He remembered the day he caught her gaze across a crowded bar and was hit with the realization there was no going back. He got lost in her blue eyes, lost in the idea of them. Lost in her. There was the night they parked behind a couple of grain bins and steamed up the windows in the Cutlass. He only wanted one kiss, but hadn't been able to stop. There was heavy petting, a lot of moaning with the radio a low hum in the background. Now, every time he listened to The Cars, he thought of her.

  The highway dipped down behind a hill and he caught sight of a woman bent over into the driver’s side of a silver sedan.

  When he pulled off the highway behind her, the crunch of his tires on the gravel and the throaty gnarl of the 455 Rocket made her turn. She tapped her sunglasses down and regarded him over the rims. A wavy lock of black hair fell over her shoulder.

  She wore a little outfit in blues and purples, that clung to her curves and rode high on her thighs. It made her legs seem even longer than he remembered. God, she’s beautiful. And she looked less than thrilled to see him.