The Promise: A Forbidden Love Romance (Magnolia Grove Book 3) Read online

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  Cover Illustration Copyright © 2014 by Photolucky, StephanieFrey

  Interior illustrations © 2016 by Kamenuka and J.B. McGee

  Some images used under license from BigStockPhoto.com

  Editing by Lawrence Editing

  Proofreading by Karen Russell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  CONNECT WITH J.B.

  DEDICATION

  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

  THE SECRET PREVIEW

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To my siblings and the special bond and love we share.

  Holden tilts his head back, resting it on the back of the couch. Kissing his neck, I lick my way down to his collarbone and nibble down to his chest. His cock is like steel beneath my naked body. “We should wait,” he says. I’m not sure he’s fully convinced himself, so I rock on his lap.

  “We’ve waited half our lives. Isn’t that enough?” I ask, my hands skimming down his sides, my fingers dipping into every crack and crevice of his ripped abdomen.

  “Then what’s the big deal waiting a little longer until the date I paid an asinine amount of money for?”

  I look up under my lashes. Is he serious? That’s like asking me to wait a year at this point. Once I make up my mind I want something, I go get it. He should know that. Anyway, the auction had already made me feel like I’d prostituted myself. “Well, that’d be kind of like paying for sex, wouldn’t it? And besides, like I said, one or both of us could die tomorrow.” Where the hell had that come from? I’m not usually morbid, but it’s hard to forget about how precious life is when I’m around him.

  His head pops up, his eyes wide. “Cock blocker, Cam. Both of those statements.”

  Cock blocker. What I want to tell him is he’s the one doing all the blocking. Glancing over my shoulder, I take a quick peek at the picture of our families. Violet, Holden’s sister, was so thin. He hasn’t mentioned her at all. In fact, every time he catches me looking at the photo, he clams up. So, I’ve not pushed the subject. There’s plenty of other conversation that needs to be sorted between the two of us. More pressing issues. I grind my hips into his. “You should know that truth better than anyone. Don’t make me wait, Holden.”

  He swallows before shaking his head. “All the more reason to make sure that when we do it, it’s worth remembering for the rest of your life. I’ll make it worth your wait. I promise.”

  “But not on the date, please.” I push off his lap, reaching down through the heap of clothes for the dress I wore last night. “Was it your mother’s idea to pimp the girls out? Because it doesn’t seem like something—” I glance back at Holden, a thought coming into my mind. His smirk confirms my suspicions. My eyes widen. “Holden Jaxon Masters, you didn’t!”

  He’s gloriously naked. He had time to gaze at me, but I never had time to really do the same to him. He shrugs, his grin broadening. “It’d be bad if I pleaded the fifth, right? Because that’d indicate there was something to hide.”

  My eyes rake his body up and down. “No secrets, Holden. Promise me.”

  He nods. “It wasn’t entirely my idea, but I knew a little bit about it.”

  I grab his Rind ‘N Grind shirt from the floor, ball it up, and throw it as hard as I can at his head. “You’re an ass.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “Before you put the dress back on, look beside the couch. Brought you some of Vi’s clothes so you wouldn’t have to do the whole walk of shame thing.”

  A chin strap wouldn’t be strong enough to keep my jaw from falling. “You did that for me?” I point to my chest. I don’t tell Holden that her clothes are probably too small for me.

  He nods. “Eventually, you’re going to quit calling me an ass. You keep having to eat your words.”

  My stomach starts to thrash and gnarl at the word eat. “You didn’t happen to stop at Rind ‘N Grind, too, did you?”

  He slips his shirt over his head before standing and reaching for his jeans. “Well, I wasn’t sure you were still here. Thought you may have gotten that Uber since I didn’t hear from you.”

  “But you brought clothes,” I say, pulling out a white crop top button-up shirt. It looks like it could have been Holden’s before someone cut it off.

  In a jiffy, he’s fully dressed. How is it possible he’s able to do that so quickly? He snatches the condom from the couch, picks his wallet up, and puts it back in before shoving the billfold in his back pocket. Dammit. Guess it’s final that we won’t be needing that today. “Yeah. Actually, that was my shirt. That’s why I picked it out. Knew it’d fit you, and quite frankly, the thought of you wearing something of mine…” He licks his lips. “Well, I thought it’d be just what it is. No need to return it. Just keep it.”

  Digging my hand into the bag, the only thing left is a pair of washed out cutoff denim shorts. “Were these yours, too, you stud muffin?”

  His laugh is boisterous. “Hell no.”

  Surprisingly, they fit pretty well. “Huh.” I roll up the legs a couple of times to account for the length. “You sure? These seem long.”

  “Hurry up so we can get food, tigress.”

  “What about shoes? You didn’t bring me any?”

  Holden shrugs. “You already have a pair. Sexy, expensive, fuck me shoes.”

  “If those are fuck me shoes, I want a refund.”

  He throws his head back. “Touché.”

  Slipping my feet in my heels from last night, I glance down. “I feel like a stripper.”

  “You’re too beautiful to be a stripper.” He tosses my dress and the towels into the bag. “I’ll take the linens home to wash and bring them back. I’ll drop your dress off at the dry cleaner’s.” He puts the metal folding chair away, tosses the bottle of water in the trash, and fluffs the designer throw pillows. “There. No one will even know we were in here.”

  “Aren’t strippers pretty?”

  He shakes his head. “Not like you, Cam.”

  Why is he tidying up the place so much? “Do you care if they know?” I ask as he unlatches the lock, pulling the door open and offering to let me leave first.

  “Hell no. I thought you would. Plus, it’s nice manners to leave the place in the condition we found it. Who raised you?” After he locks the door back, he slings the
bag over his shoulder, his muscles bulging out of the tight brown shirt.

  “I would have done the walk of shame this morning. Although…” I laugh. “This outfit is making the walk feel scandalous and shameful all by itself.”

  “Hey, now. Careful.”

  He’s right. I shouldn’t have said that. “Okay. I take it back. Did I say thank you?”

  “You don’t have to.” Our fingers brush as he sways into my side. Our eyes meet, and his are hooded, like he felt the electricity that just scorched through my body. What are we doing? Are we pretending this doesn’t exist? Are we embracing it finally? My heart feels like it’s going to thump out of my chest as my mouth dries.

  “You know.” I reach down and loop my pinky with his.

  He smirks. “No, I don’t know. But I like this.” He nods down to our hands. “Tell me.”

  “I bet if you look ‘bitch’ up in Webster’s, the example sentences are something like ‘Cammie Spencer was a total bitch to Holden when she insulted his keen fashion sense. She’s sorry and appreciative all at once. She really doesn’t like it when her bitchiness surfaces for others to see.’ Those would be the noun sentences. And ‘She’ll try to not let her behavior get any bitchier.’ Adjective.”

  He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Smart, beautiful girl. Stop turning me on, or I’m going to take you back to my place before breakfast and it’ll be lunch before we make it to Rind ‘N Grind.”

  “Hmm. Promise?”

  His eyes gleam. “Behave, then, bitch.”

  I gasp, but can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. “Hey!” If he’d called me that under different circumstances, that wouldn’t have been cool. But he’s playing with me. This is our banter, and I really like it.

  He ducks a bit, like he’s afraid the daggers I’m staring into him are going to pierce his gorgeous eyeballs. They’re the same color as the clear sky today. His eyebrows lift. “Too far?”

  I slap his arm. “Too damn far, asshole.”

  As I’m opening the door to my silver Mercedes S-Class Coupe for her, I get a view of the back of her head. Shit. I brought clothes for her, but I didn’t think to bring her a hairbrush. Or even offer to find her one in the cabana. Of course, knowing women, if I had done that she would have probably thought I was insulting the way her hair looks. She could have no hair, and I wouldn’t care. Another thing I didn’t bring or offer her? A toothbrush. Hopefully she would have known I wasn’t saying her breath was bad since I’ve already kissed her senseless.

  It would have been easy enough to get her both of those things when I went to Mom’s. At first I was going to ask her for some of her clothes for Cammie, but she wasn’t home. So, I made my way up the hardwood stairs, each one creaking loudly in the silent house as I headed to Violet’s room.

  For some reason, though, I ended up walking to my room instead and staring at the Jack and Jill bathroom we shared before sliding down the door. Being there brought back so many memories.

  Returning to my ride, I climb into the car, pressing the ignition as my past once again haunts me.

  “Vi?” I hit my knuckles against the door to the Jack and Jill bathroom I share with my sister. We’re not twins. We’re not even Irish twins. Should have been. Mom got pregnant with her pretty much right after I was born, but she was a preemie. Born two months early, which has resulted in her inheriting Dad’s towering height like me, but she’s always looked too skinny. Violet had a feeding tube for a bit and went through feeding therapies. All kinds of therapies, actually. I don’t remember the super early years, obviously, but as we have gotten older, I know it’s hard living in her shadow. She can get away with murder. They almost lost her. She’s the frail one. I’m the strong one. When they had her, it was almost like I became a has been. A leftover. It’s hard being the healthy sibling. “God, Vi.” Screw the light knuckle knock. I bang on the door with my fist this time. “What. Are. You. Doing? I just need to brush my teeth.”

  The door swings open, and I nearly fall through it before it slams in my face. My toothbrush and toothpaste land on my bare foot. “There are other bathrooms. Go use one and leave me alone.”

  “That’s disgusting, Vi. I should make you give me yours since mine just landed on my foot before bouncing off and hitting the freaking floor.” I roll my eyes and huff at her laughter.

  “You know what would be gross?” she asks through the door. What is she doing in there? “You using my toothbrush, moron,” she screams.

  “I’d love to stay and chat, but you’re making me late. I hate being late.” I kick the bathroom door. “Hey, Vi.”

  “Thought you were done chatting?”

  “Have fun walking to school.” I chuckle. Five. Four. Three...

  The door swings open, and she shoves hers at my chest. “Take it. I’ll buy a new one. Give me five minutes.”

  I can’t wipe the smug grin off my face. “Holden, you’re the best brother ever.” I step a little closer, my body blocking her ability to shut me out this time. “I’m so thankful for your transportation, for letting me spend all freaking morning in the bathroom primping. Please take my pretty pink toothbrush as a small token of my thanks.”

  She bursts out laughing. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  Quickly, I turn the faucet on, squeeze some toothpaste onto her brush, and scrub circles on my teeth. It’s the fastest I’ve ever done it. Screw the whole ‘say your ABCs’ thing they taught us when we were kids. Throwing it across the counter, I pinch her cheek. “You’re cute, Vi. And you’re also walking to school. Peace out.”

  Before she can react to what I’ve just said, I’m already sprinting down the stairs. She didn’t even have shoes on. That’ll teach her.

  “Don’t leave your sister, Holden.”

  Dang it. I stop in my tracks. Mom. Staring at the ceiling, I sigh. “Why must you be such a party pooper? She’s being obnoxious. By the way, I need a new toothbrush.”

  “Go back upstairs and tell your sister you’re not leaving her.”

  “Seriously?” I ask, my voice nearly shrieking. “Is that really necessary?”

  “It is unless you want to walk to school after I lock your keys in the safe for a week.” There’s a jingling behind my back. I whip my head around. “You wouldn’t!”

  I’m thinking she could pose as the most beautiful she-devil at this particular moment. I lunge across the kitchen. She jumps back and laughs. “Don’t you dare, Holden Jaxon. Upstairs. Now.”

  I nod. “What is up with the women of the Masters household? Y’all are making me late.”

  “No, you’re making yourself late. You could have already gone up and gotten her and been back down if you weren’t a master negotiator. Newsflash, Son, your charm doesn’t work on me. I made you.” She winks. She actually frigging winks at me.

  “Going,” I grumble.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I round the corner to Violet’s bedroom instead of mine because it’s closer. When I’m in the doorway, my gut drops to the floor. She’s standing over the commode with her finger down her throat, gagging. “What. The. Fuck,” I whisper shout, “are you doing?”

  She stares at me as she yanks the finger from her throat. “I’m not feeling well. Just thought I’d get relief if I could make myself puke.”

  I cock my head, narrowing my eyes. “Vi.” I take a step closer. “Are you okay? Like really okay?”

  She nods, but I’m not convinced. I watch her skeptically as she stands, flushes the commode, and washes her hands.

  If Vi wants something, Mom and Dad move mountains to give it to her. I knew downstairs it would have been useless for me to throw her under the bus because they always side with her.

  But everyone assumes Violet is so skinny because of her active lifestyle. Plus, she’s always been petite because she was born premature. Except, I’ve seen other girls eat like birds. Vi eats like there’s about to be a shortage of food and she should consume it all. I’ve always wondered how she could eat like that.
The doctor told mom that sometimes kids with reflux as bad as hers become comfort eaters. Checkups for as long as I can remember have centered on food questions. Is Vi eating enough? Is she eating too much? How to get her to gain weight? And warnings. Warnings that kids like her, with the early food struggles she’s faced, ones who have had feeding issues, have a higher percentage of eating disorders on average.

  Leaning against the door, I cross my arms. “You’d tell me if you were in trouble, right?”

  She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Get out, Holden. I’m not in trouble.”

  That just pisses me off. “Fine, then you won’t mind if I tell Mom you’re puking and need to stay home?”

  She lunges at me, her voice a faint whisper. “Please don’t tell her. She’ll nag me to death, Holden. She already does.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek as I search her eyes for answers, but I can’t seem to see through her. “If you feel sick, you should stay home.”

  “I feel better now that I got that out of my stomach. I have an AP psych test today. I can’t miss.”

  “Fine. Promise me you’ll talk to me if you’re in trouble, Vi. I know I act like I hate you, but I don’t.”

  She tilts her head and smiles as she rolls her eyes. “You’re being so sweet you could pass for a chick. Where’s my brother and what have you done with him?”

  Grabbing her arm, I stop her as she tries to push past me. The way she’s evading my questions isn’t sitting well with me. “Be serious for a sec.”

  “You’re going to make me late. Let’s go.”

  “Vi, I’m not kidding.”

  “Me neither, Holden. I’m fine. Take me to school or I’m going to tell Mom you refuse.”

  I flick her head with my other hand as I let go of her arm. “You’re a noob.”

  “Ah, there’s my big brother.” She turns around and kicks me in my nuts.

  I grab my junk and try to catch my breath. “There’ll be hell to pay for that later.”

  “Talk’s cheap, Holden.”