Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2) Read online

  And on that day, my heart would break to know that it was the people who loved me, who could hurt me the worst.

  Mick

  I was a simple man who kept life simple.

  I worked hard. I respected others. And I was grateful for what I had. That was the way I was raised, and it hadn’t failed me yet.

  But the moment I heard that gunshot, I knew my simple life had shattered.

  Being from Texas and no stranger to guns or hunting, not only did I know a gunshot when I heard it, but I could tell with an admirable degree of accuracy what kind of gun and what caliber bullet was used. But those details weren’t important right now, only simple facts were. And the simple fact was there was no reason I should be hearing a gunshot in downtown Carmel Cove, California, nearing midnight, with no police in sight.

  I glanced to the other end of the Carmel Pub parking lot where my twin brother had stalked off after one more argument about why I’d been called to take his angry, inebriated ass home.

  He always did this—just walked away from any and everything.

  “Dammit, Miles,” I swore under my breath and jogged to my truck, the white Ford gleaming in the dim lights of the lot, the name of our business, Madison Construction, boldly covering the side.

  My choice was simple because it wasn’t a choice.

  Someone was in danger and it wasn’t my surly, reclusive brother. So, tonight, I wouldn’t be following him. He’d make it home fine on his own; his tolerance was much higher than bartenders gave him credit for. And so was his ability to be a stubborn ass.

  I fired up the engine and pulled straight out onto Ocean Avenue, the main road through town that came to a T directly in front of the bar. The shot had come from only a few blocks up if my ears weren’t mistaken.

  Seconds dragged like cellophane, clinging to all of my senses as I drove up the street that was dead-quiet at this time of night. The only sound now was the low rumble of the engine like a beast on the prowl. The subtle smell of pine from my air freshener heightened the hunt for answers.

  The buildings lining the street passed in slow motion and my eyes meticulously scanned every detail I’d come to know like the back of my own hand over the last year since Miles and me had moved up here from Texas to grow our business.

  Carmel Cove had welcomed us with open arms and given us more business than we could handle, and I was grateful for the kind of family we’d found in the community here.

  My stomach tightened with each breath, sensing that family was now being threatened.

  “Mick! Help!”

  The cry was more piercing than the gunshot as it rang out from my right. Swearing, I floored it and veered toward the sidewalk right in front of Roasters, Carmel’s local coffee shop. There wasn’t a spot, but I made one, partially blocking the road with the bed of my truck.

  I didn’t know who’d called for me, the voice too high and distraught, but whoever the woman was, was in danger.

  Running on pure, unbridled instinct, I shoved my truck into park and reached in the glove compartment for the handgun that had occupied the space since I was old enough to have my permit. Leaving the engine running, I rounded the front of my truck and scanned the surrounding street with my weapon drawn but aimed at the ground in front of me. For now.

  There was no one on the road or coming down the sidewalk, but my eyes quickly caught sight of the front door of the coffee shop ajar, dark drops splattered from the entrance onto the sidewalk.

  Danger. The word boomed with each heavy step and the chill of the night air took on a deadly quality as I turned and faced down the sidewalk in the direction of the bar.

  And that was when I saw her.

  Jules Vandelsen.

  Beaten. Bleeding. Beautiful.

  She was the only daughter of the wealthiest family in Carmel Cove. The Vandelsens owned the luxury five-star and famed Rock Beach Resort.

  Rich Vandelsen, her father, had come from oil money and had opened the resort, turning it into the most sought-after retreat for golfers, celebrities, and politicians. Her mother, Jackie Vandelsen, was the only daughter of Larry Ocean, a local community legend in Carmel Cove and the previous owner of Roasters Coffee Shop.

  There was a saying that everything’s bigger in Texas. Well, there was a different version here in Carmel Cove: ‘everything was richer at Rock Beach.’

  And it was. Miles and I had done a few jobs there, and I doubted real royalty lived so well.

  Everyone in Carmel knew her family and their hoity-toity reputation, but I knew her because of a different reason.

  A simple truth.

  She was downright the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  Her hair was a rich brown, like each elegantly dark strand had been spun with gold, and it gleamed in a way I knew just from looking would feel softer than the white cotton-clouds that spanned a wide open Texas sky. Her tall, slender frame gave way to lush curves, and her honeyed skin ate up the rays of the summer sun until she glowed with warmth.

  Most striking were her eyes, the color of rich, roasted coffee; they gave away the bold strength contained inside her demure persona. But it was that delicate, easy smile of hers that could knock this grown man to his knees.

  Jules Vandelsen was a graceful blend of soft and bold. Invigorating and intoxicating. And even from afar, she’d made my mind run in circles and my body ache inappropriately. Impossibly.

  My gut tightened.

  Click.

  Instinct took over infatuation when I heard the unmistakable cock of a gun, my attention snapped to the man in the black suit, his arm raised with a gun pointed in her direction.

  Once again, there was no thought process. No time wasted. It was either shoot him or watch him shoot her. And the simple truth was I would do anything to keep Jules safe.

  My arm rose and I fired a single, steady shot, hitting the man in the back just before he could pull the trigger.

  I’d shot a lot of things in my life, but never a person.

  In the split-second after, he remained perfectly still, and then, as though he was taken with the breeze, his body collapsed to the ground with a hard thud and revealed another piece of the puzzle.

  “Laurel?” I rasped in shock, now able to see the petite redhead clearly; she’d been charging at the now-dead shooter to try and stop him when I fired.

  Laurel Ocean was Jules’ cousin and the current owner of Ocean Roasters Coffee House. They must’ve been together inside the shop and fled when that man attacked them.

  She didn’t notice, let alone acknowledge me—a feat of her shock considering I was almost six-foot-fix and pushing three-hundred-sixty-five pounds. And I’d just shot the man in front of her.

  Instead, she remained perfectly still, her body and gaze paralyzed by the sight of the dead man on the sidewalk.

  And then I realized she must’ve been the one who called to me.

  “Laurel,” I repeated her name a little louder this time as I approached.

  “Mick…” Her head slowly lifted to mine. Even in the dim street light, I watched more color drain from her face.

  I reached out and gripped her shoulders, and she snapped back to reality.

  “Are you okay?” I asked quickly with concern, unable to stop my eyes from continually flicking to the woman on the sidewalk behind her. I needed to make sure Laurel wasn’t going to collapse and hurt herself before I could get to her cousin.

  “Yeah, I'm—” she broke off and spun. “Jules!”

  Laurel reached for me, pleading, “We have to get her to the hospital. He hit her with the gun. Call 911. We have to—”

  I let the smaller woman go as soon as she confirmed she was alright and jogged toward the other woman who was draped on the sidewalk another block down. A low growl boiled in my chest, like a wild animal fiercely determined to protect what belonged to him, as I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911.

  As I gave the operator the information, I heard some commotion and elevated conversation be
hind me. I registered the familiar voices of my friend and Laurel’s boyfriend, Eli Downing, as well as the deep voice of Ace Covington, one of the owners of Covington Security, a local private security firm.

  There was more going on here than I knew about.

  But none of it mattered when I reached her.

  My knees hit the concrete so hard I was surprised it didn’t fracture.

  Jules lay sprawled on the sidewalk as though she’d been trying to crawl to help her cousin. There were some minor bumps and bruises on her arms and hands, but it was the nasty gash on the side of her head, steadily leaking blood onto the sidewalk that sent a wave of rage searing through me.

  “I’ve got you, darlin’,” I promised and carefully lifted her into my arms.

  She was as light as a feather and just as soft. I tried hard not to focus on those things too much as I supported her head against the crook of my shoulder.

  My jaw clenched violently seeing the battered details of her beautiful face up close, and I felt the urge to kill that motherfucker all over again.

  I’d never felt like this before. Miles was always the angry one—the one to get emotional and act on impulse. From the time I was little, I knew I could never be like that. Not with my size. It was too easy for me to do too much harm. But as we grew up, it became clear that Miles had gotten the gene that looked for trouble while I was the gentle giant who played the part of peacekeeper.

  But right now, holding her… seeing her like this… the rage I felt could’ve fueled me to destroy an entire city and everyone in it if that was what it took to punish who did this. The rage I felt wished my skilled shot hadn’t killed the man who’d obviously done this. It wished he was still alive so I could make him suffer like she was.

  Before I could stop myself, I reached up and gingerly pushed back the matted strands of hair stuck with blood to her cheeks. My fingers looked giant and rough and out of place against the delicate, soft features of her face.

  She whimpered in pain and it sent another rush of that dangerous raw anger through me.

  “You’re so strong,” I told her softly.

  It was the truth, and I’d seen it before tonight. There was a strength and beauty and grace about her that stole my breath and stopped my heart each time I was around her.

  I saw it in the way she carried herself at the resort. I saw it when she came into town to visit Laurel. There was a deep-rooted strength woven in every smile, every kind gesture, every calm word, and it was the kind of thing that stopped a simple man like me in his tracks.

  She was the kind of beauty that withstood the test of time and was meant to be admired and respected. And I clung to that rather than the current of lust for her that ran strong and steady through my veins.

  I knew wantin’ somethin’ so far out of my league would only bring trouble.

  Her soft, tortured cry ripped a new hole in my gut, and I had to remind myself to hold her gently—to fight the ferocity with which I wanted to shelter her against me.

  “I’ve got you, darlin’. You're goin’ to be just fine,” I spoke against her head, careful to not let my lips brush her no matter how they wanted to. “I've got you.”

  Even if it was only for a few minutes.

  “Did you call the ambulance?” Laurel's voice broke through the protective bubble I’d closed around me and her cousin.

  I nodded, my jaw tightening to the point I thought it might crack. “What happened?”

  “He had her. He had a gun to her head the moment I walked inside. When I told him I didn’t have the deed, he hit her. I had to save her. I had to…” she choked out, emotion overwhelming her again. Eli pulled her into his chest, comforting her.

  I processed Laurel’s answer in pieces. Some of the pieces confirmed my guesses—they’d been inside Roasters when he’d attacked. Other pieces let me make assumptions—the deed she was talking about was probably the deed to the coffee shop; the whole town knew she’d been on the verge of selling it.

  My nostrils flared.

  The rest of the story wasn’t important to me. All I could think about was the man I’d killed had taken Jules, hurt her, and would’ve taken her life to get what he wanted… if I hadn’t stopped him

  “Mick, what happened? How did you get here?” Eli demanded, pulling a hand through his dark, unruly hair while he processed the scene. His concern heightened when he looked at Jules.

  “I was down at the bar checkin’ on Miles,” I grunted, strangely grateful for my brother’s antics otherwise I wouldn’t have been out tonight—I wouldn’t have been able to save her. “I was just gettin’ in my truck when I heard a shot. Know that sound anywhere, growin’ up in Texas. Drove up the street slow to try to see where it was comin’ from when I saw the lights on at Roasters, didn’t seem right so I was goin’ to stop. Then I heard Laurel screamin’ like a banshee for help, so I pulled over and grabbed my gun and that’s when I saw him about to shoot her. So I fired.”

  Simple truth was, in that split-second, I saw myself about to lose something I knew I’d never have. But just because a star would never be mine, didn’t mean I wouldn’t do everything in my power to keep her in my sky.

  “Give me your gun,” a low voice rumbled.

  My head snapped to the side, noticing that Ace had joined our small group. If there was anyone in this town who rivaled me in size, it was Ace Covington. The difference was, with his tattoos and half-shaved head, the head of the private security firm took full advantage of his imposing size and appearance, and it was why his business was so successful.

  “What?” My eyes narrowed on him.

  “You need to give me your gun and get out of here,” he instructed with a low, unyielding voice, quickly losing his patience.

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about? I’m not leavin’ her like this.” I held Jules closer to me, hearing her shallow breaths louder than any other sound. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go until the ambulance was here and she was safe with the paramedics. “Plus, I’m sure I’m goin’ to have to give some sorta statement—”

  “This isn’t Texas, Mick. California doesn’t give a fuck whose life you saved or what evil you stopped,” he bit out with a vicious tone. “You have a license here for your gun?”

  I flinched, my eyes darting down as Jules curled tighter against me. “In Texas, yeah,” I told him through tight teeth. “Haven’t had a chance to apply here since we moved. Haven’t needed it.”

  What the hell did it matter? Was what I really wanted to ask.

  I had my conceal carry permit in Texas, and all I’d done was shoot a man who was about to kill two women.

  Ace crouched down so he was eye-level with me, saying with a very low voice, “You shot someone. You shot someone with a gun you don’t have legal right to have. They don’t fucking care if the man you killed was the goddamn scum of the earth. They won’t care that you prevented two murders tonight. They will care that you used an unlicensed firearm to kill a man.”

  “But I have a license—”

  “Not here,” he swore, his eyes shifting left and right.

  And then I heard it—the distant sound of sirens approaching, both EMS and local police.

  “Give me your gun and get out of here. I will handle this,” Ace promised me, and even though he was a friend and one of the most loyal and trustworthy people in this town, I couldn’t give him the gun because I couldn’t let go of her.

  The sirens grew louder.

  “Mick,” Eli broke in. “California doesn’t care what good you do when that good involves a gun. We’ll make sure Jules is okay, I promise. Just get out of here otherwise they will arrest you.”

  I looked to Eli, then Ace, and finally, let my gaze sink back to the precious woman in my arms.

  I’d do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant letting her go.

  “Please, Mick. Do what they say.” I turned and saw Laurel, her chin trembling as she begged, “I can’t watch them arrest you for saving my life.”
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br />   She was right. Another simple truth.

  I wasn’t going to get answers if I was in jail.

  I wasn’t going to be able to make sure Jules was okay if I was in jail.

  Laurel extended her arms, ready to take her cousin’s weight.

  My throat constricted as I looked down at Jules once more. I memorized the soft weight of the fallen angel in my arms. In the blood, I saw bravery. In the bruises, I saw fearlessness. And, in my arms, I saw everything I’d ever wanted.

  My head dipped forward and I murmured in her ear, unsure if she was even still conscious, “You have got a strength you have yet to realize.”

  Even with my size and strength, drawing my next breath was the heaviest, hardest thing I’d ever done.

  Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I relinquished her to Laurel’s arms with Eli close by to help.

  “Call me as soon as the doctor sees her and let me know how she is,” I demanded steadily, and Laurel nodded.

  I rose, pulling my firearm out from the waist of my pants and handed it over to Ace.

  While he wiped the gun down and proceeded to make sure his fingerprints were all over it, we walked back toward my truck and I went through one more time what happened, what I’d seen, and where I’d been standing when I fired.

  I got through the details quickly because more than fifteen minutes couldn’t have passed since I’d gotten out of my truck.

  Fifteen minutes.

  I took one last look over my shoulder and knew those fifteen minutes had changed my life forever.

  And it wasn’t because I’d fired a gun.

  It wasn’t because I’d killed a bad man or saved two women.

  It was because I’d held her.

  But I was a simple man who’d always relied on simple truths.

  No matter how much I desired her, all soft curves and subtle strength, we were from two very different worlds; the fallen angel in my arms was born with an invisible crown while I was just a carpenter with rough hands and dirty clothes.

  And the simple truth was people from those two very different worlds didn’t end up together…no matter how fate collided their paths.