Love Hurts Read online

  Back Cover Copy

  Can you ever really trust in love?

  Falling in love with her fiancé’s best friend is wrong--right? Not in Shania Miller’s case it isn’t. The man she vowed to marry has a second fiancée and failed to remember her after returning from Iraq. Now, unable to trust in love, she answers lonely hearts calls, saving up enough money to attend a university three hours away from the only home she’s known.

  Broken hearted, Shania and her son move to Briarwood, Indiana. Struggling financially, she wonders if she’ll ever have a complete family--one with a mommy and a daddy for her son--will become a reality?

  Mark Hardwick stood silently by as his friend broke Shania Miller’s heart. His faith allows him to help Shania, especially after she’s abandoned by her fiancé and family. Why then, did he hesitate when she announced her broken engagement and love for him on his wedding day?

  Content Warning: explicit sex scenes and violence.

  Highlight

  Shania stepped outside into the balmy night, leaving the entrance ajar enough to hear her son. She glanced at the gray rectangle mailbox, a sliver of excitement ran through her. Her fingernail slid between the lid and box. Would there be a message from Morgan, stating “I was here, where were you?” She glanced inside. No mail. No love note.

  “Shania?”

  She swiveled around. Morgan wore his black tux without the tie and corsage. He looked like a movie star in his breathtaking beauty, even without the smile. “You look like the newest double oh-seven.”

  “We need to talk,” he responded.

  The time is now, her mind shouted. She took a step. Morgan moved out of the darkness. Shania grabbed his lapels and tugged him closer. “I’d rather claim my first kiss.”

  Would he? Oh, God, let him dare!

  He smelled like spicy cinnamon and male aftershave. Her gut clenched in agony. His closeness was pleasure and pain. Her knees weakened. Morgan quickly moved his hands from her face to her arms, as if to hold her up.

  “Ah, Shania.” He pressed his cheek against hers, taking a deep breath. “What are you doing to me? I can’t resist you.”

  Love Hurts

  978-1-61650-189-1

  Copyright © 2010, jj Keller

  Edited by Camila Londono

  Book design by Pamela Tyner and Renee Rocco

  Cover Art by Valerie Tibbs

  First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: September, 2010

  Lyrical Press, Incorporated

  17 Ludlow Street

  Staten Island, New York 10312

  http://www.lyricalpress.com

  eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.

  PUBLISHER'S NOTE:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my mother-in-law, Kathyrn Bowerman. Family is everything to her.

  Chapter 1

  He fidgeted with the blue tie while glancing out the church’s chancery window. Her rusty four-door jerked to a stop in a yellow zone of the parking lot. Shania jumped out of the SUV. Morgan’s heart pounded against his rib cage. Strands of brown hair caught in the wind fell from the knot at the nape of her slender neck, as she ran to the other side. The baby “everything” bag flopped against her side as she lifted Justin out of the car seat in the rear. Using tight fists, Justin rubbed his eyes, and then wiped his nose on her shoulder. While massaging his back, she kissed his plump baby cheek. There was no denying Shania Miller was an excellent mother.

  A teenage girl wearing pigtails, jeans and a white t-shirt met Shania on the sidewalk near the bell tower. A quick transfer and Justin’s mouth opened wide as he struggled to grab his mother, kicking his feet in rebellion. Shania handed the bag to the tiny bit of female, and then kissed Justin’s forehead. Smoothing his hair, Shania said something to the youngster. A quick bob of her head toward the chancery window, then the overburdened teen pivoted to walk along the cement path. Shania glanced up and smiled. Love for her exploded inside him.

  What had she wanted to say last night at the rehearsal? Her perfect lips drew his attention, making him miss most of her words. Unable to resist, his fingers had caressed her bare shoulder as he released her. He chastised himself for giving in and making the contact. Sometimes doing what was morally correct hurt.

  “What are you staring at?” Tom asked from behind him.

  Hesitant to look away from the scene below, Morgan glanced at his best man, who was tugging his shirt at the neck. “Shania just arrived.”

  Tom stared at him, reading him as he always did, and nodded. Morgan could never keep his thoughts hidden from him. “Are you sure you want to go through with this wedding? It’s not too late to call it off.”

  Morgan grimaced. Was he that obvious? A few seconds later Shania rushed through the door and stood stock still, gathering her breath. His plebeian attendants hovered, mouths open, gawking at her. Granted, her sexy body was sheathed in a thin form-fitting dress.

  “Leave us alone,” he ordered. The guys stopped their incessant ribbing for the first time in two days and dragged their feet toward the door.

  Shania took his full attention. Though beautiful before, after giving birth to Justin she’d matured into a sexy voluptuous woman. Unlike her normal jeans and sweatshirt, she’d dressed in a revealing outfit and looked stunning.

  Should he call off the wedding as Tom had suggested? No, he and Shania could never be together, too many missed opportunities to become lovers. They would be buddies for life and remain simply friends. He tried to think mundane thoughts and proceeded to recite the Ten Commandments, waiting for her to speak her mind.

  She dashed forward and halted within an inch of him. The scent of mint surrounded him, rushing out of her mouth, as she licked her perfect pink lips.

  “Don’t marry her,” she demanded.

  “What?” Commandments forgotten, he shook his head in disbelief and wonder.

  “Don’t marry Patty. Please.” She held her left hand to her chest as if to push back the heaves. Her engagement ring was gone. Last month, he’d heard rumors of her returning the diamond to Beck. She should have flung the dull jewel into his face the moment she got it years ago.

  Morgan glanced at his three friends holding the door open and obviously listening. He waved his hand, urging them to close the door. “Out!”

  The trio, fashionably dressed in black tuxes, eased the entrance closed. Shania twisted a lock of hair which had escaped and tucked it into the sloppy knot.

  In the back of his mind, he hoped she’d tell him what he’d longed to hear for the past four years. If she didn’t, he needed one last caress, and at his touch, vanilla scent from her soft skin filtered into the air, magnifying his stifled yearning. “Why shouldn’t I marry Patty?”

  She bit her lip and stared at him. Her tiger eyes, filled with insecurity, grew more golden than usual. “Because…”

  “Because?” His heart
beat as fast as the second hand of the lopsided grandfather clock in the corner, quick and loud. Another strand of hair had escaped. Wanting to touch the soft lock, he tucked it behind her ear.

  She stared into his eyes. “Because I love you, and I think you love me.”

  “You bitch! I knew I couldn’t trust you,” Patty’s screech came from behind them.

  Morgan’s focus had been on Shania and her declaration. With great reluctance, he pulled his glance away from Shania. Patty, his bride-to-be, was striding forward like an enraged shrew bent on vengeance.

  “Patty, we’re in a church. My church.” He released Shania’s arm and held his hand out to take Patty’s.

  She shook him off and shoved Shania. “You are nothing but a whore. I’m going to tell everyone about--”

  “Stop!” Rage like he’d never experienced raked his body, shaking him to his core. He wanted to box the ears of the woman he’d agreed to marry.

  “You’re out of the wedding,” Patty shouted, pointing at Shania.

  “Fine.” Shania ran to the door and glanced back. Her doe eyes and trembling lips were highlighted by the stained-glass cross cut in the opening.

  Morgan couldn’t let her leave. “Wait!”

  Her feet grounded, and she lowered her head. His throat tightened. She turned and wrapped shaking hands around the handle. He swallowed and took a step.

  “Leave the dress,” Patty screamed and blocked Morgan’s path.

  Shania pivoted and glared. “I wore it to the church. I’ll have it dry cleaned and returned.”

  “No, I need the dress now. My cousin is extra-large. She can fill in for you.” Patty lifted her lips, resembling the Joker in a Batman movie.

  Shania’s body stiffened. Her fists tightened beside her hips. She’d been bold enough to live alone, single, pregnant and self-supportive. Could she defy societal norms and walk out of the church without clothing? He wouldn’t allow it and tugged an arm of his jacket.

  She reached behind and unzipped the pink and turquoise sequined dress. A few shakes of her hips and the slick material fell to the floor.

  Morgan removed his coat and missed her as she slid through the door. Catcalls and whistles streamed down the hallway. He rushed through the massive oak door and glowered at his friends. Shania’s white rear flashed around the corner, while a hanger swung on the rack where choir robes were stored.

  “She’s hot,” his best man said. “I want some of that.”

  “Shut up, Tom,” Morgan shot back, then swallowed. He took a deep breath and jerked his jacket over his arm. Slowly, he walked into the room, shut the door and leaned against the wood.

  Patty hovered in front of the mirror, messing with her hair. “Has she gone? Do you know she called his morning and claimed her brat had the sniffles and tried to cancel?”

  “Yes, she left. Justin’s not a brat, and I never want to hear you call my son that again.” Morgan ground his teeth, even as he tried to gain control of his emotions. He threw his jacket over the back of a chair and crossed his arms. Justin was his son, and he’d love and protect him with his dying breath.

  “You need to get ready, honey. I’ll have Becky dress, and we’ll start in a few minutes.” She stepped to him and kissed his tight lips.

  “No!” Despite the inside of his mouth bleeding from biting the skin, he was a forgiving man. He would try to see her point of view and end the farce of a relationship. “Look--”

  She smiled. Malice, clear and demonic, glittered from her small eyes. “I meant to tell you, a close friend found out Shania works--”

  He knew where she worked and he resented Patty’s snobbishness and attack. “The wedding’s off.” He paused as her mouth dropped open. “Do you want me to tell them?”

  “What? Why?” Her face scrunched into her famous tear-releasing mode.

  “I can’t be married to someone who’d treat another person that harshly. Your behavior was immature and cruel. Although I’ll always have a…fondness for you, I can’t spend the rest of my life with a woman who can hurt others so easily.” Why did he say yes to her proposal in the first place? Because he was lonely and finally realized he couldn’t have the woman of his dreams—Shania. He’d almost made the biggest mistake of his life. Glancing through the pane, he observed Shania putting Justin in the car seat. Justin was crying and tossing his feet into the air. A black chorus gown belled out as she ran around the sturdy vehicle and slid onto the driver’s seat. She leaned her head against the steering wheel. After a few minutes, she visibly straightened her shoulders.

  “You bastard. You’re doing her, aren’t you?” Patty slapped him. Before she bent to pick up the dress, a snarl crossed her face, wicked enough to send Beelzebub back to his black fire. She ran to the door and turned. Eyes glazed over with unshed tears, she demanded, “If you don’t marry me, you’re paying for the wedding.”

  Morgan sat down on a bench by the window, rubbing the sting from Patty’s hand imprint on his cheek. He flexed his jaw. Joy at Shania’s pronouncement took some of the pain away. Shania loved him. He rubbed his chest, the pounding equal to the rhythm of the organ music filling the chapel.

  Find Shania, echoed in his mind. She had to wait for him. He ran out of the chapel, shoved flowers flapping in the wind on the outside staircase banister and down the sidewalk. He glanced both ways. Which way had she gone? Morgan started toward his car. It was decorated with white writing on the windows and cans trailing behind.

  “Morgan, where are you going?” Mike asked.

  Morgan pivoted to see a line of black-suited friends watching him with confused expressions, except Tom. He had a knowing smile on his square face.

  Morgan would go after Shania once he told his family and friends the wedding was canceled.

  * * * *

  Shania spoke in soothing tones to her son. Face red, hair wet from sweat, he grew tired. His feet stopped striking the car seat and rested. Leaning her head against the window, she took a deep breath. She’d taken a risk and lost. Morgan must not love her the same way she loved him. How could she have read each one of the clues wrong?

  She’d met Morgan over four years ago. As a high school senior she’d visited several colleges, but focused on Briarwood University because of its reputation. The school possessed a renowned and outstanding art department. Morgan’s roommate, Beck Longview, was the upperclassman assigned to show her honors group around the campus. Beck’s talent existed in charcoals and hers in pastel painting. Hmm, so like their individual personalities, Beck’s work was sketchy and full of dark inconsistencies while her art covered the canvas completely with beautiful vibrant colors--all or nothing for Shania.

  “Together, we’d make a whole artistic genius,” Beck whispered in her ear the last day of the orientation. He kissed her, a sweet gentle smooch. She gave him her phone number and climbed in her Jeep to return to Cyan, Indiana. He visited Cyan the next weekend. A pattern formed--she’d attend Summer Workshops at the university or Beck traveled to Cyan.

  Morgan Hardwick was Beck’s best friend. When Beck would take Shania to his house in Briarwood, Morgan was always around, either in the kitchen getting a snack or watching TV, or typing a business paper. His presence didn’t bother her as much as the way he watched her. His soft green eyes, at times, sparked with humor or a flash of heat would appear before he’d lower his glance. More often than not, Morgan would shift his gaze from Beck to her and a frown would appear. He’d tighten his lips and leave the house or shut himself into his bedroom. At the time, Shania considered Morgan’s behavior odd and rude.

  One August evening, Beck and Shania walked hand in hand down Market Street. Shania glanced toward a couple coming from the opposite direction. Morgan escorted a beautiful blond-haired woman wearing a sheer, knee-length ruby dress. Never having seen him with a date before, Shania’s curiosity skyrocketed and she rushed toward them. Morgan’s gaze met hers as Beck tugged her arm, causing her to stumble over her feet as he jerked her through the open door of an ant
ique store. Why hadn’t Beck wanted her to meet the lady in red? More importantly, why had she felt compelled to talk with her? Shania’s interest in Morgan existed back then--if only she had recognized the attraction. If time could be reversed, she’d have taken a different path. Perhaps she and Morgan could have developed an intimate-love-relationship.

  She’d never seen Morgan with the same woman again, and Beck refused to answer Shania’s numerous questions about who she was. Recently, the Briarwood newspaper had a wedding announcement--the same woman Morgan had escorted down the sidewalk was getting married to Beck Longview.

  Shania huffed. Had Beck been betrothed to the other woman back then? Shania glanced in the rear view mirror to see Justin had settled down. She accelerated to pull out of the church parking lot and braked.

  Her affection for Morgan hadn’t struck like a white lightning as it had with Beck--no, her love for Morgan had grown over the years. She’d always care for Beck, but this bond with Morgan was solid and everlasting. If she did indeed have an attachment to him. Goodness. Could she have confused a friendship for adoration?

  Regardless, neither man was in her life. Her chest tightened and her breath shortened. Her second chance at love failed. Maybe she didn’t deserve a happily-ever-after.

  Chapter 2

  A few blocks later, Shania pulled into the free clinic parking lot. She jumped from the car and opened the rear door. Justin’s hair had matted to his head. His cries had converted into mumbling. Could his misery be a result of the upheaval in their lives? Morgan hadn’t been around as much, and Justin was accustomed to seeing him several times a week. Their belongings were packed, ready to move, which could be making him insecure.

  “Mommy’s going to get help for you, baby doll.” She unsnapped his seatbelt, wiped the tears drying on his chubby cheeks, placed the carry-all on her shoulder and tugged him out of the car seat. The choir robe’s sleeves billowed out, and his arm got caught inside.