Kane, p.1
Kane, page 1
Dedication
To my online friends who have become real life family. I love you guys.
Copyright ©2019 Delaney Foster
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locale is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form by any means or stored in a database or retrieval system, except in the event of brief quotations in articles and reviews, without the prior consent of the author.
Cover design by: Poole Publishing Services, LLC
Formatting by: Poole Publishing Services, LLC
Content editing by: Erin Toland with Edits by Erin and Susie Poole at Poole Publishing Services, LLC
Proofreading by: Kim Holm
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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Other books by Delaney Foster:
A Woman’s Touch series:
A Woman’s Touch
A Man’s World
Ever After
The Perfect Gentleman
Sin with Me series:
Sin with Me
Penance
Absolution
Standalones:
The Secrets You Keep
If reading books had an archnemesis, it would be writing reviews for those same books. I had a fanatical love/hate thing going with book reviews. I loved writing them for my blog because the sixty-thousand people that followed me and opened their browser every Thursday morning looked forward to them. And I hated them for that very same reason. People read (or didn’t read) books because Rie’s Reads told them to. Which was a lot of pressure on a girl. That’s also why I vowed to always be honest. Even the worst books had something redeemable about them, and I always made sure to end my reviews on a high note.
I didn’t get paid for blogging. Reading was just something I’d always loved to do. Why not share that love and enthusiasm for books with the rest of the world?
As much as I wished reading could be my full-time job, that sadly was not the case. In the real world, I ran my parents’ coffee shop. And it was ten minutes till go-time. I could set my watch by the usual rush of the “my blood type is coffee” crowd. Six-o-two. Every single morning. Except weekends. On weekends they waited till after seven.
Common Ground was the only coffee shop/café in Hickory Falls, Georgia. My parents opened this place when I was a little girl. As far back as I could remember, everyone from age five to eighty-five came here to have a seat at the round wooden tables and eat freshly baked brownies and drink freshly brewed coffee. It was located on the corner of the two main streets in town, which meant that there was a perfect view of the city square through the black and white buffalo check curtains. There was no Starbucks or Cheesecake Factory in Hickory Falls. Kind of hard to fit all that in a town with only two stoplights. It was just our little café and Mabel’s Table (aka the best homemade burgers east of the Mississippi). We weren’t big, but we were cozy.
I soaked in the last moments of silence that I’d have for the next few hours and inhaled the scent of pastries and coffee. The morning sun began to spill in through the windows. I’d helped my mother sew those curtains almost ten years ago. I couldn’t believe they’d held up all this time.
My only co-worker, Alyssa, filled a glass canister of sugar on the last of the round, wooden tables. I sat in the corner with my laptop in front of me and favorite coffee mug full of French vanilla coffee. This was when I shared my thoughts with the world—early in the morning before our small town came to life. Soon, all the tables would be full, and the faint overhead music would be drowned out by morning conversation and laughter. I finished my latest book review and first cup of coffee.
Rie’s review: The Girl Next Door
I really wanted to like this book. I mean, in “the way your friends talk up the blind date they’ve set you up on” wanted to like. But sadly, this one had me wishing someone would call with a fake emergency and put me out of my misery. They didn’t. And I ended up fighting my way through the pages with a machete in one hand and a box of Dove chocolates in the other. Survival skills 101, y’all. Here’s where I tell you why: the main character was absolutely intolerable. There was never a moment where I didn’t want to punch her in the face. Seriously, she popped pills to sleep then she popped more to stay awake. Then, you guessed it, more pills because she couldn’t handle the reality of being awake. At one point I wanted to perform an intervention. How could her family possibly think that’s okay? Which brings me to my next point: the secondary characters were flat. Bring out the butter and maple syrup flat. The plot held my attention, though, so there’s that…
I mean, this was the granddaddy of suspenseful plots. The only way it could’ve been any better is if someone would’ve murdered the pill-popping protagonist.
One of the book’s seriously redeemable qualities is the writing. Imagine your blind date having the sense of humor of a bag of rocks, but man did he have a gorgeous smile. Or set of abs. Or whatever you’re into. That was this book for me. I really enjoyed the author’s voice.
So, my advice to the author would be: Keep trying, Bennett Kane. You’ve got potential. I like your style. It might even earn you a second date. 😉
“Ouch,” Alyssa said over my shoulder.
She always read my reviews that way. Privacy was overrated. Obviously.
“Do you critique your dates the way you judge those books?” she asked with a scowl.
“I’m not judging the books, Lyss. I’m reviewing them. And no. I don’t review my dates.”
I posted my review then closed the laptop and slid out of the oversized chair, grabbing my apron from the top of the bar on my way to the kitchen.
I wrapped the strings around my waist twice then tied them in the front. “We should probably put out extra chocolate croissants this morning,” I said, then stopped in front of one of the industrial ovens and pulled open the door.
“Are we expecting a rush?”
“It’s Thursday. Mr. Jackson comes in on Thursdays and always buys them all for his office. Then I end up giving Mr. Fredericks a free blueberry muffin because—”
“Chocolate croissants are his favorite,” Alyssa finished.
I winked and grabbed an oven mitt. I was pretty sure Mr. Fredericks liked blueberry muffins every bit as much as he liked chocolate croissants. But two weeks ago, I’d made the mistake of offering him a free muffin in exchange for his disappointment, and he’d played it up ever since. Give a man an inch, he’ll take a muffin.
“Speaking of dates …” Alyssa trailed off as I grabbed the baking sheet full of croissants.
I rolled my eyes. No one was still speaking of dates. As far as I was concerned, we’d moved on to pastries. Besides, if she was referring to my dinner with the spawn of the Incredible Hulk and the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, that wasn’t a date. It was a natural disaster.
“We don’t speak of it,” I said, shaking my head. “Ever.”
Alyssa laughed. “That good, huh?”
“Aside from the fact that he insisted on calling me ‘Carrie,’ then wrote his number on the check for the waitress, it was great.” I moved the croissants from the pan to the display case. “Just be glad you’re married.”
She was two years younger than me and had been married four years already. I was definitely doing this dating thing all wrong.
Alyssa pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail. “Oh yes. Because hearing about my husband’s bathroom routine and shopping for power tools is my idea of romance.”
I flipped the switch on the espresso machine. “Your life is a fairy tale.”
“Yeah, I feel just like Cinderella. Before she got invited to the ball…”
We stayed busy through the morning with our usual customers, including a table of older men who liked to sit in the corner and drink about three pots of house blend. Black. No sugar.
I approached their table and held out the glass pot full of coffee. “Good morning, Mr. Fredericks. You ready for a refill?”
“Mornin’ Rie.” He held out his cup and I filled it to the brim. “We ’ve been coming here a long time, and there’s something I want to ask you.”
My heart jumped to my throat, and I prayed he wasn’t going to try to set me up with his son... again. Sure, my date with steroids-for-brains was bad, but it was nothing compared to homecoming with Shane Fredericks. The guy not only brought his mother to dinner with us but had her sit at the same table and cut his steak. Even at fifteen, I knew that was a train wreck waiting to happen.
A combination of hissing, whistling, and gurgling came from where Alyssa stood behind the counter.
“What in the world is that sound?” he asked.
I let out a thankful sigh.
“Oh that? That’s the frother. Alyssa is making a latte.”
“A lot of what?” Mr. Fredericks asked.
“A lot of noise if you ask me,” Mr. Jenson chimed in from the other side of the table.
I laughed and circled around the table, filling the other men’s half-empty coffee mugs. “A lah-tay. It’s a type of coffee.”
“I don’t know why people don’t just drink regular coffee anymore,” Mr. Davis said.
I gave him a wink. “Because then I’d be out of a job and you wouldn’t have anyone to bake you raspberry cream cupcakes.”
After the morning rush, I sat curled up in my reading corner with my feet tucked under my butt. When I was younger, I’d begged my dad for this spot. It gave me a place to hang out while my mom cleaned up and closed the shop. He’d reluctantly agreed—after I’d stood in front of the mirror perfecting my puppy dog eyes for two hours—and so came the oversized chair.
When I got old enough to run the café —and my parents decided they liked visiting places like the Bahamas more than they liked coming to work every day—I added a second chair and a bookshelf, and it kind of became a thing. Some of my favorite customers came into the coffee shop just to sit in that corner and read whatever I added to my book collection. My dream was to one day merge my parents’ place with a bookstore of my own. One day.
“I’m gone for the day. You need anything else before I go?” Alyssa asked after she’d finished wiping the last table.
I set my book on the arm of the chair. “Nope. I’m going to wait here for Stella. We’re going into Atlanta for some retail therapy.”
“Oh, if you find any good deals on power tools, make sure to let me know.”
“The sarcasm is strong with this one, Master Yoda,” I replied, earning a laugh from Alyssa as she walked toward the door.
“See ya tomorrow, Rie.”
“See ya.”
I was too exhausted to get into a new book right now. Instead, I grabbed my phone and opened the email app. I nearly dropped the device onto the stained concrete floor when I read the name on the top of my screen.
Bennett Kane 12:25 PM
About that date…
There was nothing better than the sound of an aluminum bat against a leather ball. Well, nothing that can be done with clothes on anyway. The pitching machine launched another ball across the plate, and I sent it to the back of the net along with the nine before it. This was how I relieved stress. An hour at the batting cages and I could face the world with a smile. My best friend, Jayce, and I had been coming here to blow off steam since we’d moved to Houston from our tiny hometown of Clover Creek over ten years ago.
Clover Creek, Texas had a population of about four-hundred and fifty, and four-hundred of them were related. Okay, maybe not that many, but the chances of finding a woman who didn’t know the gory details of my dysfunctional past were slim to none. And those who did know either ran from me or felt sorry for me—neither of which I was fond of. Jayce and I had graduated mid-semester of our senior year then hit the road like our balls were on fire.
After spending that first weekend in Houston, Clover Creek was a distant memory. I’d never even thought about going back. There’s a rule on page eighty-six of How to Date for Dummies: don’t eat where you shit. My life had taken a serious dump all over that small town, and I wasn’t a fan of starving. Jayce was the exception to the rule. He’d spent his whole life loving the same woman and was lucky enough for her to love him back. Now he spent all his spare time right back where he started. If he didn’t have a successful company to run in the city, I’d bet my babymaker he’d move back home in a heartbeat. Me? I ran as fast as I could, as soon as I could. I didn’t even tie my shoelaces before my feet hit the highway. Small towns weren’t my thing. Never had been. Never would be.
“You hit like a girl,” I told him when it was his turn in the hitting net. “Spending all that time back in Clover Creek is making you soft.”
“The only thing soft in my life is Claire’s lips. Especially when she’s—”
I held up my hand. “Woah, man. Not trying to visualize all that.”
“Kissing me,” Jayce finished with a smirk. “What were you thinking?” The machine shot a fastball, and he smacked it to the back of the net. “Pervert.”
I tugged on the fingertips of my batting gloves, pulling them off then stuffing them in my back pocket. “Visionary,” I corrected him.
“Not how visionary works,” Jayce said with a grunt as he hit the next ball. “Besides, I’ve seen your search history. I know exactly what kind of visions you have.”
“Porn Hub is a perfectly respectable site.”
“Spoken like a true romantic.” He smashed another fastball.
The guy never misses. He’s tall, handsome, owns a successful company, and engaged to the love of his life. The least he could do is miss a fucking fastball once in a while.
He looked over his shoulder and grinned his cocky-ass grin at me. “But you’ll get there,” he added.
“If by there you mean balls deep in the waitress from Saltgrass, then yes. And that one day will probably be tomorrow. If you mean the point where I’m a sappy puddle of spineless mush, then not a chance.” I lifted the heavy black net then ducked underneath.
“The waitress from lunch yesterday? Really? When did that happen? I was there the whole time.”
I shot him a wink. “A player never reveals his cards. Not even to his best friend.”
Jayce rolled his eyes then started gathering up balls and tossing them into a plastic bucket. I flipped the switch on the big blue pitching machine we liked to call Iron Mike. Then I grabbed two baseballs and held them firmly in my palm as though I were holding my nuts.
“See this? This is me.” I made a show of gripping the two baseballs. Then, I extended my hand over the bucket.
“This is you.” I let the balls fall then laughed at my own demonstration.
I gave Jayce a hard time, but I was happy for him and Claire. They were the Hope Diamond in the sea of romance, a once in a lifetime thing. What they had didn’t happen to guys like me. I wasn’t even sure I wanted it to.
Jayce didn’t look amused. But he laughed. Because face it, sometimes the truth was funny. “Do you take anything seriously?” he asked.
I tossed a few more balls into the bucket. “Of course I do. You. Jess. My jobs—both of them. And the College World Series. Not always in that order.”
At that moment, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Speaking of Jess, her name flashed across my phone screen and I wondered what d-bag had broken her heart this time.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” I answered without saying hello.
Her breath came in short, excited bursts. “Korie Lawson reviewed your book,” she squealed.
My little sister was a complete book nerd. She was the reason I got into writing in the first place. I was perfectly happy helping Corporate America figure out what to do with its cash flow, but I wrote one simple magazine article and Jess insisted I had a talent.
Korie Lawson. Korie Lawson. I thought of my last few all-nighters. I repeated the name in my mind, but still had nothing.
“Okaaaay?”
“Ben! She’s the most awesome book blogger ever and her reviews are literally everything.”
So I didn’t bone her. And I doubted her reviews were literally everything, but I went with it. “And?”
This was where she got quiet. Jayce stared at me with a blank look on his face. I was right there with him. I didn’t get it either. “Jess, what did she say that has you so excited?”
