Senin, 30 Agustus 2010

[L840.Ebook] Download Writing Compilers and Interpreters 2nd edition by Mak, Ronald (1996) Paperback, by Ronald Mak

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Writing Compilers and Interpreters 2nd edition by Mak, Ronald (1996) Paperback, by Ronald Mak

New copy. Fast shipping. Will be shipped from US.

  • Published on: 1709
  • Binding: Paperback

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Selasa, 24 Agustus 2010

[F546.Ebook] Free Ebook Mercedes-Benz SL & SLC 107 Series: 1971 to 1989, by Brian Long

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Mercedes-Benz SL & SLC 107 Series: 1971 to 1989, by Brian Long

It’s hard to believe, but the W113-series Mercedes-Benz SL was launched almost 50 years ago. However, its timeless styling has kept it fresh and attractive in the eyes of a new generation of enthusiasts, as well as those returning to the car having owned one when they were still in dealerships.  A combination of superb original design, peerless engineering and build quality simply adds to the desirability of this series of classic German machines, and has ensured that many of these cars can still be seen in regular use today.  Covering the SL’s ever-changing specification, competition record, and its presence in many of the world’s major markets is a huge task, but it’s all presented here in definitive detail, along with stunning contemporary photography, in a volume that will readily grace any reference library shelf or connoisseur’s coffee table.  An earlier book, also published by Veloce, and covering the 107-series SL and SLC, acts as a perfect companion to this title, taking the SL story up to 1989.

  • Sales Rank: #1556817 in Books
  • Published on: 2010-12-15
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 10.00" h x .25" w x 10.00" l, 2.85 pounds
  • Binding: Hardcover
  • 208 pages

Review
"Give an experienced author such as Brian Long a subject he is passionate about – he's owned an SL and SLC – and you can expect a treat. And that's what we have here: a no-stone unturned look at these increasingly sought-after sporting Mercs. There are packed appendices for completists, too." – Classic & Sports Car
 "Buy this excellent hardback 208-page history by an established author and wonder why on earth we British persisted so long with our own anachronistic, unreliable and spartan sports cars." – Gay Classic Car Group
 

About the Author
Born in Coventry, once the heart of the British motor industry, Brian Long is a professional writer with a passion for vintage and sporting machinery. A trained mechanical engineer and a long-term owner of both an SL and SLC, he has had a strong connection with Daimler-Benz products for over two decades. He has over 50 books published, including many works on German marques.

Most helpful customer reviews

6 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
Great comprehensive guide to the R and C107
By Bryce
This book is an extremely comprehensive review of the 107 series, from its inception, details about the car, its changes over the years and successor. This book is not a buyers guide, so buy it if you're interested in the car, not looking to buy one. It also covers the rally cars etc.

I would also add that it is written from a worldwide point of view which is great - so many of these Mercedes books are very USA model centric - this book take a very comprehensive worldwide view. On the downside, there are some inaccuracies for the Australian spec models which were different to the USA ones (e.g. no CAT until 1986), but overall the book is very good.

The book also contains information about product numbers and specs for each year. These are spread throughout the narrative instead of being in table form for comparisons.

overall I'm very happy with this book.

1 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Mercedes-Benz R-107 350SL to 560SL
By Robert Geco
Some things get better with age.Brain Long Who lives with his wife in Japan has long been a Mercedes-Benz enthusiast and owner of the R107 Coupe 450SLC and the 450SL touring sports car. With his connections to Mercedes-Benz archives comes a new book revealing the birth of this model, a transfer of the W113 SL Pagaoda
from 1963 to 1989 and perhaps the longest running SL produced in Mercedes-Benz history 18 year, so you can expect a lot of small to big changes before the mold's got thin. today these are considered the next young classic from Mercedes-Benz.

Brain Long goes into much detail both mechanical and also add some history that happened during the periods of time so you don't get board. there is much to learn from his research. I will lease it to you to decide.included are different color codes and upholstery for each year with a bi line of information that grabs at you. This is a book that has to be read like drinking fine wine . you can not take it all in at once because their is so much to be learned till the last of the 560SL and classic SLC coupes.

If you are a fan of the SL Sports car in august of this year will debut another book on the W113 SL Pagaoda 230SL ,250SL ,and some touches on the 280LS. own them both and you can instantly tell you neighbors what and how and why about their car , that will stop them in their tracks. may Be even get them to buy
another before the prices zoom up again. with so many build looking for orginal ones is a challenge . they are out there and command the same no less price when new if keep in pristine condition .they are also an excellent car for your son or daughter going off to college. Build like a tank safety was the primary focus on this car so having one as an enjoyable summer car with the hard top removed.

buy the book and you will discover the charm of the magic words SL.
Robert Geco

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Must have book
By R. Edelstein
This is a "must have" book for any owner or person interested in the R107 series Mercedes SL's. Book was in new condition and it's an enjoyable read, whether you are a long time Mercedes owner and familiar with the marque or a newbie getting interested.

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Jumat, 20 Agustus 2010

[K225.Ebook] Download Ebook Music Theory Past Papers 2014 Model Answers, ABRSM Grade 5 (Theory of Music Exam Papers & Answers (ABRSM)), by ABRSM

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Music Theory Past Papers 2014 Model Answers, ABRSM Grade 5 (Theory of Music Exam Papers & Answers (ABRSM)), by ABRSM

*Essential practice material for all ABRSM Theory exam candidates *Contains four separate papers

  • Sales Rank: #1203715 in Books
  • Published on: 2015-01-08
  • Original language: English
  • Dimensions: 11.42" h x .2" w x 8.27" l,
  • Binding: Sheet music
  • 16 pages

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Kamis, 19 Agustus 2010

[C873.Ebook] PDF Ebook Imperial America: Reflections on the United States of Amnesia, by Gore Vidal

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Imperial America: Reflections on the United States of Amnesia, by Gore Vidal

Gore Vidal has been described as the last ‘noble defender" of the American republic. In Imperial America, Vidal steals the thunder of a right wing America—those who have camouflaged their extremist rhetoric in the Old Glory and the Red, White, and Blue—by demonstrating that those whose protest arbitrary and secret government, those who defend the bill of rights, those who seek to restrain America's international power, are the true patriots. "Those Americans who refuse to plunge blindly into the maelstrom of European and Asiatic politics are not defeatist or neurotic," he writes. "They are giving evidence of sanity, not cowardice, of adult thinking as distinguished from infantilism. They intend to preserve and defend the Republic. America is not to be Rome or Britain. It is to be America."

  • Sales Rank: #136130 in Books
  • Brand: Brand: Nation Books
  • Published on: 2005-08-17
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 8.20" h x .50" w x 5.50" l, .50 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 208 pages
Features
  • Used Book in Good Condition

From Publishers Weekly
The commercial success of Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace and Dreaming War shows that Vidal's Jeffersonian anti-imperialism is fashionable again with the left wing of the book-buying public. In time for the election season, Vidal has dashed off three rambling anti-Bush diatribes and collected eight articles from the Nation, Esquire and other magazines, written from 1975 to 2004. Many of the selections take the form of mock State of the Union addresses, and while Vidal's consistency over the years is admirable, reading 11 variants of the same stump speech becomes monotonous. Vidal typically includes denunciations of Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt and Truman for their part in constructing America's "National Security State." He believes that the Cold Warriors invented a phony Communist bogeyman and that "Israeli fifth columnists" such as Norman Podhoretz control America's policy in the Middle East. Vidal would end the war on drugs and nationalize health care and natural resources. And he would change the Constitution to make America a parliamentary democracy and break the monopoly of what he calls the "Property party," with "its two wings: Republican and Democrat." Vidal is at his most convincing and entertaining when he's jeering at democratic pieties about America, which he believes is actually an oligarchy run by a military-industrial-financial elite that he calls "the bank." Vidal may be in tune with the zeitgeist again because his polemical writing resembles the new blogger punditry: conversational, tart, fervent, digressive, susceptible to idiosyncratic theories but capable of worthwhile provocations.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
Like Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace (2002) and Dreaming War (2003), this final volume in Vidal's trilogy attacking the "Cheney-Bush junta" contains some new analysis padded out by previously published essays (most of these are from the 1980s). This time, Vidal tackles the American imperial impulse, placing the Cheney-Bush wars in Iraq and Afghanistan in the context of America's 1846 seizure of California and the later annexation of colonies in the Pacific. Vidal's vast knowledge of American history and his blazing wit set him apart from the other Bush bashers, and even his old stuff will be fun to read for those sharing his point of view. Some of the material is dated, though, such as an analysis from 1985 of Reagan's Christian apocalypticism, which never really gets connected to imperial America or its current leaders. And the book's organization leaves something to be desired; some observations are repeated almost verbatim 100 pages apart. Still, Vidal's fierce, vitriolic voice remains relevant. The highlight of the book is the opening essay, a scathing critique of what Vidal calls Cheney-Bush's "hijacking" of the election and their subsequent administration, and so it's a bit disappointing that most of the material here is older. Vidal's historical analysis is often fascinating, but fellow Bush-bashers will wish for more current intelligence. John Green
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
He is critical of its bad government. He is angry at injustices
By Tsundo
Vidal is not anti-America.
He is critical of its bad government.
He is angry at injustices, power-mongering, greed and stupidity.
In the old days, Vidal would be like John the Baptist or some sage trying to make people listen and change.
But in today's human realm, perhaps his voice is not taken seriously.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Why were are in a constant state of war
By Karim Mansouri
This should be required reading for all high school students and repeated in university. It shows how our country has been hijacked by a few thieves; and why we are at constant war.

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
"Power Corrupts, and Abosolute Power Corrupts Absolutely
By James E. Egolf
Gore Vidal's anthology titled IMPERIAL AMERICA is an anthology of essays written between 1980s and c. 2004. While these essays may seem dated to those with short memories,the theme of unbridled power, media lying, and the outer limits of hypocrisy are the same even though the "actors" are different.

Vidal cites historical anecdotes and comments from the Founding Fathers about the perils of political power. According to Vidal, American drive toward imperial power and central power began with the Civil War or the War of Southern Secession or the War of Southern Independence. The basic synamic of this war was that Northern Bankers made considerale money and have ever since became more greedy and powerful.

Vidal's description of the Spanish-American War includes the bloody suppression of the people of the Phillipines who were promised independence in 1898 only to have such promises and oaths revoked. The subsequent war of suppression which probably lasted from 1898 to 1902 costing over 200,000 lives.

Vidal's description of the Cold War is as clear a presentation of trends and events as this reviewer has read. What U.S. authorities could have gained by policy, they tried to get by military force. Vidal explains that the reasons for this use of force was/is to enhance arms executives, oil executives, and bankers at the expense of U.S. taxpayers.

Many times U.S. citizens are not alert to the "Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace" trends because journalists and yes, historians repeat the same distortions and lies. Due to corportate executives controlling newpapers and other media sources, journalists, and academicians have "sold their soul" to please corporate masters and bankers. If one reflects on sensationalist news stories for the past 60 years, he/she will discover that most of these stories were lies, exaggerations, and distoritions. When some honest historians corrected any of these distoritions, the corrections got little or no attention. Or, anyone who made such an honest effort was badly smeared by "offical panals" of liars in the absence of the person in question. In fact, this is exactly what happened to Vidal himself. The montior of the panal was Roger Mudd (Mud?) who made all sorts of accusations against Vidal when Vidal was not on the panal to defend himself. The fact is Roger Mudd is a coward.

Vidal gives clear evidence of unbridled power and hypocrisy. He also suggests means of ending the corrpution of a centralized police state. He suggests a return to the concept of federalism and uses the examle of the Swiss. Notice the Swiss stay out of war and have high living standards. Vidal suggests that U.S. citizens could locate in areas that satisfy their cultural and social preferences.

One feature of Vidal's essays that should catch readers' attention is his criticism of the U.S. Supreme Court justices whom Vidal accuses of giving legal sanction to what is otherwise illegal and unconstitutional. This trend has only accelerated since the 1980s, and Vidal presents brief but concise explanations of these Supreme Court decisions.

While some may think some of these essays are redundant, they need to be. Those with short memories need repeated reminders of serious problems or, as the subtitle of the book reads REFLCETIONS ON THE UNITED STATES OF AMNESIA. Vidals depth of knowledge and writing style make these essays well worth reading.

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Minggu, 15 Agustus 2010

[E740.Ebook] Free PDF The Most Important Thing Illuminated: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor (Columbia Business School Publishing), by Howard Marks, P

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The Most Important Thing Illuminated: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor (Columbia Business School Publishing), by Howard Marks, P

Howard Marks's The Most Important Thing distilled the investing insight of his celebrated client memos into a single volume and, for the first time, made his time-tested philosophy available to general readers. In this edition, Marks's wisdom is joined by the comments, insights, and counterpoints of four renowned investors and investment educators: Christopher C. Davis (Davis Funds), Joel Greenblatt (Gotham Capital), Paul Johnson (Nicusa Capital), and Seth A. Klarman (Baupost Group).

These experts lend insight into such concepts as "second-level thinking," the price/value relationship, patient opportunism, and defensive investing. Marks also adds his own annotations, expanding on his book's original themes and issues. A new chapter addresses the importance of reasonable expectations, and a foreword by Bruce C. Greenwald, called "a guru to Wall Street's gurus" by the New York Times, speaks on value investing, productivity, and the economics of information.

***

Howard Marks, the chairman and cofounder of Oaktree Capital Management, is renowned for his insightful assessments of market opportunity and risk. After four decades spent ascending to the top of the investment management profession, he is today sought out by the world's leading value investors, and his client memos brim with insightful commentary and a time-tested, fundamental philosophy. Now for the first time, all readers can benefit from Marks's wisdom, concentrated into a single volume that speaks to both the amateur and seasoned investor.

Informed by a lifetime of experience and study, The Most Important Thing explains the keys to successful investment and the pitfalls that can destroy capital or ruin a career. Utilizing passages from his memos to illustrate his ideas, Marks teaches by example, detailing the development of an investment philosophy that fully acknowledges the complexities of investing and the perils of the financial world. Brilliantly applying insight to today's volatile markets, Marks offers a volume that is part memoir, part creed, with a number of broad takeaways.

Marks expounds on such concepts as "second-level thinking," the price/value relationship, patient opportunism, and defensive investing. Frankly and honestly assessing his own decisions--and occasional missteps--he provides valuable lessons for critical thinking, risk assessment, and investment strategy. Encouraging investors to be "contrarian," Marks wisely judges market cycles and achieves returns through aggressive yet measured action. Which element is the most essential? Successful investing requires thoughtful attention to many separate aspects, and each of Marks's subjects proves to be the most important thing.

"This is that rarity, a useful book."--Warren Buffett

  • Sales Rank: #24102 in Books
  • Published on: 2013-01-15
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.25" h x 6.25" w x .75" l, .90 pounds
  • Binding: Hardcover
  • 248 pages

Review

When I see memos from Howard Marks in my mail, they're the first thing I open and read. I always learn something, and that goes double for his book.

(Praise for The Most Important Thing, Warren Buffett, Chairman and CEO, Berkshire Hathaway)

If you take an exceptional talent and have them obsess about value investing for several decades―including deep thinking about its very essence with written analysis along the way― you may come up with a book as useful to value investors as this one. But don't count on it.

(Praise for The Most Important Thing, Jeremy Grantham, Cofounder and Chief Investment Strategist, Grantham Mayo Van Otterloo)

A clear and expert resource for all investors.

(Praise for The Most Important Thing Kirkus Reviews)

Veteran value-investing manager Howard Marks draws on pithy memos he wrote to clients over the years to dispense insightful advice on everything from risk taking to the role of luck.

(Praise for The Most Important Thing Money Magazine)

The original is great, but if you're willing to spend a bit more money (eBook is $9.99), this new version does have a little more meat to it.

(My Money Blog)

I recommend this book to all who aspire after value investing.

(Aleph Blog / Money Science)

This new edition does the nearly impossible; it takes an already classic text and makes it an even more indispensable tool for investors!

(FocusInvestor.com)

Ultimately The Most Important Thing Illuminated: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor is an outstanding read. I'll be referring back to it often. I'd say it's a must-have for every value investor.

(Seeking Alpha)

Enlightening and well detailed.

(Midwest Book Review)

This is a book I recommend you keep on your desk

(Charles Sizemore Forbes.com Moneybuilder)

Marks' The Most Important Thing distilled the investing insight of his celebrated client memos into a single volume and, for the first time, made his time-tested philosophy available to general readers. In this edition, Marks's wisdome is joined by the comments, insights, and counterpoints of four renowned investors.

(Value Walk Blog)

About the Author

Howard Marks is chairman and cofounder of Oaktree Capital Management, a Los Angeles-based investment firm with seventy-five billion dollars under management. He holds a bachelor's degree in finance from the Wharton School and an MBA in accounting and marketing from the University of Chicago. He is the author of The Most Important Thing: Uncommon Sense for the Thoughtful Investor.

Bruce C. Greenwald holds the Robert Heilbrunn Professorship of Finance and Asset Management at Columbia Business School and is the academic director of the Heilbrunn Center for Graham & Dodd Investing. He is the coauthor of The Curse of the Mogul: What's Wrong with the World's Leading Media Companies.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Read an excerpt from The Most Important Thing Illuminated (to view in full screen, click on icon in bottom right-hand corner)

Most helpful customer reviews

52 of 52 people found the following review helpful.
This book can save you from yourself when investing
By Andy Wallace
Each year, there are hundreds of books written on the subject of stock market investing. Most of them are not worth the investment of one's time or money. Every once in a while, a new classic hits the market. This book is one of those new classics on investment writing.
Howard Marks, Chairman of Oaktree Capital Management, writes clearly and persuasively about the importance of risk avoidance when investing in stocks. He emphatically states his belief that risk avoidance by buying at a good value is the key to success. He then spends the rest of the book telling the reader the 18 most important things to consider when buying stocks. His discussion of investor psychology is worth the price of the book by itself. Everything else is a bonus.
I had been meaning to read this book for a year or so. When I learned that an annotated edition, with comments from some leading value investors, I grabbed it. I took my time reading it, as there is so much great information within. The final chapter, in which Marks pulls all 18 important things together, is now something I intend to re-read several times a year, like I do with Chapters 8 and 20 of Benjamin Graham's The Intelligent Investor.
Highly recommended.

41 of 45 people found the following review helpful.
A Classic Made Even Better
By Richard M. Rockwood
I have to say I was very excited to learn that this new edition was going to be released as I found the first edition of his book to be a seminal investing work, one that deserves to be on the same shelf as The Intelligent Investor, Security Analysis, Common Stocks and Uncommon Profits, and the Berkshire Hathaway shareholder letters.

I was not disappointed when I read my review copy. I found that the annotated comments highlighted important sections in the text while also providing additional compelling perspectives but yet didn't get in the way of the flow of the book.

Don't just take my word on this, here are a few examples:

p. 58: Howard Marks: Understanding uncertainly: Dimson's formulation reminds us of a very simple concept: that many things are possible in the future. We can't know which of the possibilities will occur, and this uncertainty contributes to the challenge of investing. "Single scenario" investors ignore this fact, oversimplify the task, and need fortuitous outcomes to produce good results.

p. 104: Seth Klarman: Even the best investors judge themselves on the basis of return. It would be hard to evaluate yourself on risk, since risk cannot be measured. Apparently, the risk-averse managers of this endowment were disappointed with their relative returns even though their risk adjusted performance was likely excellent, as borne out by their performance over the following three years. This highlights just how hard it is to maintain conviction over the long run when short-term performance is considered poor.

Please allow me to make one additional comment on the annotations before I discuss the new chapter. I was not familiar with Mr. Johnson before reading his collection of annotations in the book but I found them insightful and thought provoking. I wish my college career had included being a student in his classes. You can find more information on him at this site: [...].

The new chapter is called Reasonable Expectations. This chapter develops the theme that investors need to keep their expectations grounded in reality to guard themselves from overreaching and thus taking on far more risk than is reasonable. Mr. Marks cautions his readers that one can never know when the exact right time to make a purchase is. Focus on buying it when its trading at below your estimate of value with the understanding that if its gets cheaper you will buy more as the price declines. The point is not to become despondent if a stock declines after your purchase it because being able to catch the absolute button is nearly impossible.

Here is a quote from this chapter in which Mr. Marks is telling his readers how an investor should have been thinking in the dark period of 2007-2009:

"I need 8 percent. I'd be glad to earn 10 percent instead. Twelve percent would be even better. But I won't try for more than that, because doing so would entail risks I'm just not willing to bear. I don't need 20 percent."

I find that comment particularly interesting when you consider that Mr. Buffett has spoken on the record many times that he looks for investments that can earn him 15%.

In conclusion I certainly think the chapter is a valuable addition to the book. This new material, along with the added annotations, make the new edition a worthwhile purchase. All in all this new edition does the nearly impossible, it takes an already classic text and makes it an even more indispensable tool for investors!

11 of 12 people found the following review helpful.
Great Book - annoying commentaries
By kc
Howard Marks is one of the great investment thinkers. This book provides tremendous insight into the nature of risk and return. For example, higher prices mean both lower expected returns and higher risk (which is counter to Modern Portfolio theory).

Unfortunately, I found the comments in the "illuminated" version distracting. There were some insightful comments (mostly from Marks himself) but they were inserted into the middle of the chapters. I would prefer to have the comments at the end so I could keep my stream of thought.

I would probably recommend the un-illuminated version.

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Senin, 09 Agustus 2010

[Y135.Ebook] Ebook Come to Me Recklessly: The Closer to You Series, by A. L. Jackson

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Come to Me Recklessly: The Closer to You Series, by A. L. Jackson

From the New York Times bestselling author of Come to Me Softly, another irresistible new adult romance in the Closer to You Series.

His heart was turned off…
Until she turned him on….

Christopher Moore gave up on the idea of love years ago. Now, his life is an endless string of parties and an even longer string of girls. Enjoying the physical perks with none of the emotional mess, he’s convinced everyone that he’s satisfied—everyone but himself.
 
Samantha Schultz has moved on with her life. Finishing her student teaching and living with her boyfriend, she’s deluded herself into believing she’s content. But there is one boy she never forgot—her first love—and she keeps the memory of him locked up tight. She will never allow any man to break her the way Christopher did.
 
When Christopher’s sister and her family move into a new neighborhood, Christopher is completely unprepared to find Samantha living at the end of the street. Memories and unspent desires put them on collision course of sex, lies, and lust. But when guilt and fear send Samantha running, Christopher will have to fight for what has always been his.

  • Sales Rank: #821424 in Books
  • Published on: 2015-04-07
  • Released on: 2015-04-07
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 8.22" h x .93" w x 5.53" l, 1.00 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 448 pages

Review
"Come to Me Recklessly was everything I've come to expect from A.L. Jackson: a truly amazing love story that draws you in and pulls at your heartstrings. This second-chance love story was absolutely beautiful. ~The Book Nuts
"I absolutely love reading books by A.L. Jackson. The impacts her intensely emotional journeys have on me are everlasting and can never be replicated. What she creates with each unique story continuously shocks me with how powerful written words can truly be. ~Best Sellers Best Stellars
"Oh...my...gosh. I am suffering from the MOTHER OF ALL BOOK HANGOVERS! Wow. Come to Me Recklessly by AL Jackson was pure perfection!!! A true work of art!" ~HEA Bookshelf

About the Author
A. L. Jackson spends her days writing in Southern Arizona where she lives with her husband and three beautiful children. She is the author of the Closer To You Series, including Come to Me Softly and Come to Me Quietly. She is also the author of Lost to You, When We Collide, Take This Regret, and Pulled.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS
OF A. L. JACKSON

Also by A. L. Jackson

To love and faith.

PROLOGUE

There are few things that hurt so much as a broken heart.

It’s physical.

Intense.

Real.

It doesn’t matter which way you slice it, analyze it, or add it up, you’ll always come up with the exact same sum. The worst part is there is no antidote for this affliction.

They say time mends all things.

I say they are liars.

Maybe time subdues, burying the pain beneath all the new memories we make, tucking it under the burdens and joys and new experiences that life layers on over the years.

But that broken heart?

It’s always right there, lying in wait. Ready to crush you when you’re slammed with that errant, unexpected thought.

But nothing could have prepared me for this—what it would feel like to look up and find him standing inches from me.

From the moment we met, he always had the power to bring me to my knees. I should have known his control over me would never diminish or dim.

I should have known it would only intensify.

Maybe I should have run.

But somewhere inside, I knew he’d never let me get far.

ONE

Samantha

My phone rang with the special chime, the one reserved just for my brother Stewart. I rummaged around for it in my purse while I was browsing the aisles of Target. The grin taking over my entire face was completely uncontrollable. I just couldn’t help it. Talking with him—seeing him—was always the highlight of my day.

Running my thumb across the screen, I clicked the icon where his message waited. I’d never even heard of the app until he’d convinced me I had to get it, teasing me that I was living in the Stone Age, which to him I was pretty sure would date all the way back to 2011. I couldn’t begin to keep up with all the tech stuff he loved.

I held my finger down on the new unread Snapchat message from gamelover745.

An image popped up on the screen, his face all contorted in the goofiest expression, pencils hanging from both his nostrils as he bared his teeth. I choked over a little laugh. The joy I felt every time I saw his face was almost overwhelming as it merged with the twinge of sorrow that tugged at my chest.

Quickly I shoved the feeling off. He told me he couldn’t stand for me to look at him or think of him with pity. I had to respect that. He was so much braver than me, because seeing him sick made me feel so weak.

I forced myself not to fixate on his bald head and pale skin, and instead focused on the antics of this playful boy. The little timer ran down, alerting me I had only five more seconds of the picture, so I quickly read the messy words he’d scrawled across the image.

I’m sexy and I know it.

On a muted giggle, I shook my head, and I didn’t hesitate for a second to lift my phone above my head to snap my own picture. Going for my silliest expression, I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out to the side.

So maybe the people milling around me in the middle of the busy store thought I was crazy, or some kind of delusional narcissist, but nothing inside me cared. I’d do anything to see him smile.

I tapped the button so I could write on the picture.

Love you, goofball.

I pushed SEND.

Seconds later, my phone chimed again. I clicked to receive his message. This time he was just smiling that unending smile, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, radiating all his beauty and positivity, and that sorrow hit me again, only harder.

Love you back, he’d written on the image.

Letting the timer wind down, I clutched my phone as I cherished his message for the full ten seconds before our Snap expired. The screen went blank. I bit at the inside of my lip, blinking back tears.

Don’t, I warned myself, knowing how quickly I could spiral into depression, into a worry I couldn’t control, one that would taint the precious time I had with him.

Sucking in a cleansing breath, I tossed my phone back into my purse and wandered over to the cosmetics section, browsing through all the shades and colors of lip gloss. I tossed a shimmery clear one into my cart, then strolled into the shampoo aisle.

Apparently I was in no hurry to get home. It was sad and pathetic, yet here I was, twenty-three years old and passing away my Friday night at Target.

Ben had texted me earlier saying he was going out to grab a beer with the guys and not to wait up for him. All kinds of warning bells went off in my head when I realized that his leaving me alone for the night only filled me with an overwhelming relief. That realization hurt my heart, because he’d always been good to me, there for me when I was broken and needed someone to pick up the pieces, making me smile when I thought I never would again.

But with Ben? There had always been something missing. Something significant.

That flame.

The spark that lights you up inside when the one walks into the room. You know the one, the one you can’t get off your mind, whether you’ve known him your entire life or he just barreled into it.

Was it wrong that I craved someone like that for myself?

Maybe I’d be content with Ben if I had never felt the flame before. If I’d never known what it was like to need and desire.

But I had. It’d been the kind of fire that had raged and consumed, burning through me until there was nothing left but ashes. I’d thought that love had ruined me until Ben came in and swept me into his willing arms.

He’d taken care of me, a fact I didn’t take lightly. I honored and respected it, the way Ben honored and respected me.

So maybe I never looked the same or felt the same after he’d destroyed something inside me. But I’d survived, and I forced myself to find satisfaction in that, willed it to make me stronger instead of feeble and frail.

I tossed a bottle of shampoo I really didn’t need into my cart, but it smelled all kinds of good, like vanilla and the sweetest flower, and today I didn’t feel like questioning my motives. In fact, I tossed in a bottle of body wash for good measure. I rarely treated myself, and I figured I deserved it. The last four years had been spent working my ass off, striving toward my elementary education degree at Arizona State University, and I’d finally landed my first real job a month ago.

Pride shimmered around my consciousness. Not the arrogant kind. I was just . . . happy. Happy because of what I had achieved.

I bit the inside of my lip, doing my best to contain the ridiculous grin I felt pulling at my mouth.

Finally . . . finally . . . I’d attained something that was all on me.

Ben was always the one who took care of me. But he also had a bad habit of taking all the credit. Like my life would fall apart without him in it.

Slowly, I wound my way up toward the registers. I needed to get out of here before I drained what little I had in my checking account with all my celebrating.

I rolled my eyes at myself and squashed the mocking laughter that rolled up my throat.

Yep, livin’ large and partyin’ hard.

My life was about as exciting as Friday-night bingo at the retirement home down the street.

But hey, at least my hair would smell good and my lips would taste even better.

Scanning the registers, I hunted for the shortest line, when my eyes locked on a face that was so familiar, but just out of reach of my recognition. Curiosity consumed me, and I found I couldn’t look away.

She was standing at the front of her cart, her attention cast behind her. Obviously searching for someone.

I stared, unabashed, craning my head to the side as I tried to place the striking green eyes and long black hair. She was gorgeous, enough to make any supermodel feel self-conscious, but she was wearing the kind of smile that spoke a thousand welcomes.

Two feet in front of her, I came to a standstill, which only caused her warm smile to spread when her gaze landed on me. My attention flitted to the empty infant car seat that was latched onto the basket, then darted back to her face. My stomach twisted into the tightest knot as recognition slammed me somewhere in my subconscious, my throat growing dry when her name formed in my head before it swelled on my tongue. “Aly Moore?” I managed, everything about the question timid and unsure. Well, I wasn’t unsure it was her. There was no question, no doubt.

What I wasn’t so sure about was whether I should actually stop to talk to her. My heart was already beating a million miles a minute, like a stampeding warning crashing through my body, screaming at my limbs to go and go now.

Still, I couldn’t move. Short gusts of sorrow were a feeling I was well accustomed to, dealing with Stewart and all the sadness his illness brought into my life.

But this?

Pain constricted my chest, pressing and pulsing in, and I struggled to find my absent breath.

God, she looked just like him. I always did my best to keep him from my thoughts, all the memories of him buried deep, deep enough to pretend they’d forever been forgotten, when in reality, everything I’d ever shared with him was unrelentingly vivid.

Seeing her brought them all flooding back.

His face.

His touch.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block them out, but they only flashed brighter.

God.

“Samantha Schultz.” My name tumbled from her mouth as if it came with some kind of relief. She stretched out her hand, grasping mine. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?”

I hadn’t seen her in years. Seven, to be exact. She was only two years younger than me, and she’d always been a sweet girl. Sweet and smart. Different in a good way, quiet and shy and bold at the same time. I’d always liked her, and some foolish part of me had believed she’d always be a part of my life. I guess I’d taken that for granted, too.

But that’s what happens when you’re young and naive and believe in promises that turn out only to be given in vain.

I swallowed over the lump in my throat and forced myself to speak. “I’ve been good. It’s so great to see you.” It was all a lie wrapped up in the worst kind of truth.

I dropped my gaze, my eyes landing on the diamonds that glinted from her ring finger where she grasped my hand, and I caught just a peek of the intricate tattoo that was woven below the ring, like she’d etched a promise of forever into her skin.

A war of emotions spun through me, and I wanted to fire off a million questions, the most blatant of them jerking my attention between the empty infant carrier and her ring. My mind tumbled through a roller coaster of memories as it did its best to catch up to the years that had passed.

“Oh my God . . . you’re married? And you’re a mom.” I drew the words out as I finally added up the obvious, and a strange sense of satisfaction at seeing her grown up fell over me. It seemed almost silly, thinking of her that way, considering she was only two years younger than me. Now the years separating our ages didn’t seem like such a big deal. Not the way they had then, when I’d thought of her as just a little girl, a hundred years and a thousand miles behind me. It seemed now she’d flown right past me.

With my words, everything about her glowed. She held up her hand to show me the ring I’d just been admiring, her voice soft with a reverent awe. “Can you believe it?” She laughed quietly. “Some days I can’t believe it myself.”

The joy filling her was so clear, and I chewed at my bottom lip, both welcoming the happiness I felt for her and fighting the jealousy that slipped just under the surface of my skin. Never would I wish any sorrow on her, or desire to steal her happiness away because I didn’t have it myself. I wasn’t vicious or cruel. But seeing her this way was a stark reminder of what I was missing.

Happiness.

I bit back the bitter feeling, searching for an excuse to get away, because I was finished feeling sorry for myself, when Aly’s face transformed into the most radiant smile, her attention locked somewhere behind me. There was nothing I could do but follow her gaze. I looked over my shoulder.

All the surprise at finding Aly Moore amplified, spinning my head with shock when I saw who she was staring at.

Jared Holt strode toward us.

My knees went weak.

The grown man was completely covered in tattoos, every edge of him hard and rough. But none of the surprise I felt was caused by the way he looked, because I’d been there to watch his downward spiral. Part of me was surprised to see he was still alive.

He held an adorable, tiny baby girl protectively against his chest, the child facing out as they approached. She kicked her little legs when she caught sight of her mom. A soft smile pulled at his mouth and warmth flared in his eyes when they landed on Aly.

My heart did crazy, erratic things, and the small sound that worked up my throat was tortured. Someone was trying to pull a sick joke on me, dangling all the bits of my past right in front of my face.

It just had to be Jared.

No, he hadn’t been responsible for any of the choices Christopher or I had made. Still, he’d been the catalyst that had driven the confusion.

The overwhelming feeling rushing over me was altogether cruel and welcome at the same time, because God, how many times had I lain awake at night, unable to sleep because I was thinking of Christopher Moore, wondering where he was and who he’d become? And suddenly here was his world, our world, his sister and his best friend, the people who had been with us and were part of what defined that time—standing in front of me at Target with their little baby girl.

Aly must have sensed my panic. Again she reached out to squeeze my hand. “You remember Jared Holt, don’t you?” She obviously knew I did. There was no missing the look that passed between the two of them, a secret conversation transpiring in a glance.

“Of course,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Samantha,” Jared said as a statement. He handed Aly the little tube of diaper rash ointment he must have gone in search of while she waited at the front of the store. He turned his attention right back to me. “God . . . it’s been years. How are you?”

“Good,” I forced out, wondering where in the hell that word even came from, because right then, I was definitely not feeling good. I was feeling . . . I blinked and swallowed. I couldn’t begin to put my finger on it except to say I was fundamentally disturbed, as if the axis balancing my safe little world had been altered. “How are you?”

The concern that involuntarily laced my tone was probably not needed, because he smiled at Aly as he situated his daughter a little higher up on his chest and kissed her on the top of her head.

“I’m perfect,” he said through a rumbled chuckle.

Aly took a step forward and lightly tickled the tiny girl’s foot.

The little black-haired, blue-eyed baby kicked more. Her mouth twisted up at just one side, as she was obviously just learning how to control her smile, and she rolled her head back in delight. She suddenly cooed, and her eyes went wide and she jerked as if she’d startled herself with the sound that escaped her.

Aly’s voice turned sweet, the kind a mother reserved only for her child. “And this is our Ella . . . Ella Rose.”

Ella Rose.

They’d named their daughter after Jared’s mother, Helene Rose.

Affection pulsed heavily through my veins as I looked on the three of them, so happy to see their joy. As strong as that emotion was, it wasn’t enough to keep my own sadness at bay, and my mind reeled with the questions I wanted to ask about Christopher.

But those questions were dangerous. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t know.

Instead I reached out to let their baby girl grip my finger. I shook it a little, and that sweet smile took over her face again, this time directed at me as she tried to shove my finger in her mouth.

I just about melted. I was pretty sure this little girl had the power to single-handedly jump-start my biological clock. “Well, hello there, Ella Rose. Aren’t you the sweetest thing.” I glanced up at Aly. “How old is she?”

“She just turned two months yesterday,” she answered. “It feels like she’s growing so fast, but I already can’t remember what it was like not to have her as a part of our lives. It’s such a strange feeling.”

My head shook with stunned disbelief. “All of this is crazy.” I eyed them happily as some of the shock wore away, as if being in their space was completely natural. “The two of you ending up together.”

Aly blushed, and Jared watched her as if she was the anchor that kept him tied to this world. Then he slanted his own mischievous grin my way. “Don’t be too surprised, Sam. This girl was always meant for me.”

Good God. How Aly wasn’t a puddle in the middle of the floor, I didn’t know. His words were enough to leave me all swoony and light-headed and they weren’t even intended for me. And I wanted to laugh, because he’d always called me Sam, almost like a tease, a dig at his best friend, Christopher, who refused to call me anything but Samantha.

It instantly took me back too many years, and I was there, feeling flickers of that flame that had been missing from my life for so long. But those kinds of flames had burned me right into the ground. Those kinds of flames hurt and scarred.

“So what about you?” Aly asked, stepping back. “What have you been up to? Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, I live with my boyfriend in the neighborhood right behind the shopping center.”

“You’re kidding me. We do, too.” She laughed at the coincidence. “We’re neighbors.”

Here we all were, standing in the same store in this huge city, miles away from where we’d all begun. I almost had the urge to look behind me, fully expecting to see Christopher sauntering toward us, an apparition sent to taunt me in a ruthless twist of fate.

“How is your little brother? I heard he was doing really well after your family moved across town.”

After being thrown headfirst into all these tumultuous memories of Christopher, my walls were down, and this time I wasn’t prepared for the sadness that sliced straight through me. I attempted to steady my voice. “He was in remission for five years, but the cancer just recently came back.”

Aly sobered, and genuine sympathy edged the curve of her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, and it didn’t hurt to hear her say it. Instead I felt comforted.

“Me, too,” I agreed, shaking my head as a saddened smile twisted up my mouth. “He’s the sweetest kid.” Well, he wasn’t so much a kid anymore. Really, he was almost a man, but it was hard to look at him that way when he was so frail. “I just keep praying for him, and I spend as much time with him as I can to keep his spirits up. He’s been pretty sick with the treatments, so he hasn’t been getting out of the house all that much lately. I couldn’t imagine having to go through my junior year of high school online, but he doesn’t complain.”

Stewart was now seventeen, the youngest in our family. My brother Sean was two years younger than me, in the same grade as Aly had been, and my sister, Stephanie, was nineteen. My parents had us in quick succession and had had some kind of overindulgent lovefest with our names since theirs were Sally and Stephen. It used to bother me when I was young.

Not anymore.

We’d been a normal, rambunctious family until Stewart had gotten sick when he was nine. When I met Christopher, Stewart had been at his worst. Well, at his worst . . . until now.

Ella released a shrill little cry and squirmed in Jared’s hold. Gently, he bounced her, shushing her in a soft whisper against her head. “I think someone is going to need their mommy soon.” Soft affection flowed from Jared’s laughter. “She goes from completely content to starving in five seconds flat.”

“Oh, well, I better let you two go,” I offered, hating that it sounded almost reluctant. “It was really nice to see you again.”

Aly hesitated, glancing at her husband, before she tipped her head and studied me with intent. “Would it be weird if we . . . I don’t know . . . had coffee or something? I totally understand if you’re not comfortable. I get it. But I’d love to really catch up with you if you’re up for it. I could use a friend around here.”

Maybe that’s what I liked about her most. She just came right out and said it, gave voice to that huge elephant that was snuffing out all the air in the room. That and she was genuine and kind.

I refused to allow myself to believe I was agreeing because she was Christopher’s sister.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“Good.”

She dug around in her huge bag for her phone, while Jared just stood there swaying Ella, his mouth seemingly pressed permanently to the side of her head as he showered her with small kisses.

Aly thumbed across the screen. “What’s your number?”

I rattled it off while Aly entered it into her phone. Two seconds later, my phone dinged with a new message.

“There, you have my number, too.”

This time, Ella’s cry was a demand.

“We’d better get her home so I can feed her. I’ll call you soon.”

“That would be great.”

She hugged me, only glancing back once as she followed Jared into a lane to pay.

I hurried to one of the express registers, all of a sudden feeling guilty, like I’d committed some sort of mortal sin by giving my number to a Moore.

Christopher had broken me, shattered my belief and trust. But more important than that, I had Ben to think about. Ben, who had stood by my side. Ben, who even with all his faults, truly cared about me. He was my father’s best friend’s son, and basically we had grown up together. My parents had raised me with the impression that someone like Ben would be the right kind of guy for me, and with my demolished heart, it hadn’t taken him all that much to convince me I belonged with him.

I paid and rushed outside. The blistering Phoenix summer was in full force. Suffocating heat pressed down from above, taking everything hostage, the evening sky heavy with dense clouds building steadily at the edge of the horizon.

My feet pounded on the scorching pavement as I made my way up the aisle to my Ford Escape.

Funny, that suddenly felt like exactly what I needed to do.

Escape.

Take this whole afternoon back.

Leave the classroom of the tiny private school where I’d taken a job as a teacher during their summer program, and instead of coming here gone straight to the small house I shared with Ben—where I was safe and memories of Christopher were buried and hidden in the hope that one day they would finally be forgotten.

I slumped into the driver’s seat, my gaze drawn to the little family that came bustling out of the store.

My heart rattled in my chest.

“Shit,” I cursed, gripping the wheel. “What am I doing?”

The sick part was I knew the answer to that.

TWO

Christopher

Outside the bedroom door, the party raged on. Timothy’s house was splitting at the seams, the way it always was on a Friday night. Music blared and voices lifted above it, echoing through the thin walls. Distorted sounds pounded heavily against my skin, my eyesight hazy in the deep shadows of the darkened room.

I felt completely weightless and somehow still pinned down by the pungent fog clouding my brain.

Every elemental part of me slowly became detached. Floated away. All of my emotions. All of my thoughts. It was like they hovered somewhere overhead, just out of reach. My entire consciousness faded away, right along with my conscience, leaving me with nothing but the physical.

It’s what I craved. Needed. The relief of feeling nothin’ but skin on skin.

Even though some part of me hated it at the same time.

Slouched back on the worn-out couch in the spare bedroom, I lifted the half-drained bottle of Patrón to my lips, idly watching the dull mop of brown hair obstructing the face of the girl who was on her knees, sucking me off.

The only things I could discern were the pleasure of her hot, needy mouth and the burn of tequila as it roared through my system to settle in a scorching pool in my gut.

She looked up from under her thick veil of hair, brown eyes wide as they searched for a connection but instead met with the apathy in mine.

That was the fucking problem. I was on disconnect.

That plug had been pulled a long time ago.

Never would I allow someone to have that kind of control over me.

Not like she had.

Not ever again.

•   •   •

Monday morning, I rolled up in front of Jared and Aly’s house at the ass crack of dawn. I squinted against the bright rays of light burning my eyes as the sun climbed over the horizon, chasing the last of the night from the sky.

I cut the ignition and jumped from the cooled cab of my truck. Heat swallowed me whole. You’d think at five thirty in the morning we’d get a little reprieve. No such luck. Summers in Phoenix were fucking misery.

That didn’t stop the eager smile that tugged at my mouth as I ambled up their walkway.

So what if I had to leave my man card at the door every time I walked into Jared and Aly’s place. Call me a pussy, I didn’t care. My niece had me wrapped around every single one of her tiny fingers.

I rang the doorbell and rushed my hand through my hair, listening for movement inside. A shadow passed behind the draped window before metal slid as the lock was unlatched. My sister grinned at me when she opened the door.

“Christopher, aren’t you looking chipper this beautiful morning,” Aly teased as she lifted a knowing brow, stepping back to let me inside.

So yeah, I’m sure I looked like hell. Both Friday and Saturday nights, I’d been over at Timothy’s house, living it up. Funny how all that living made me feel like death warmed over. Every weekend left me just a little more hollowed out. I was pretty sure I was slowly killing myself, week by week losing just a little more of who I was, carving away more and more of what had been important to me.

Pretty soon there would be nothing left.

But there was no way to get any of it back.

Ancient-history bullshit, anyway.

I shoved all the unwelcome thoughts off, rolled my eyes as I ruffled Aly’s messy hair. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t have a whole lot of room to talk there, Aly Cat. You look like you got about as much sleep this weekend as I did. Livin’ up to your name?”

Dark bags sat heavily under her green eyes, and her near-black hair was all tangled. She was wearing an old stained-up T-shirt that had to be Jared’s, because the girl was swimming in it. Still, my sister was beautiful. Inside and out. No wonder my dumb-ass best friend couldn’t keep his hands off of her.

She groaned a little, but somehow the sound was filled with pure affection. “Ella decided she was hungry every twenty minutes last night. I have no clue how I even got out of bed this morning. I feel like a walking zombie.”

Jared suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he tugged her against his chest. He buried his face somewhere in her neck. “Apparently Ella likes her mommy as much as I do.”

I’d just about lost my goddamned mind when I found out these two were hooking up. Not because I didn’t like Jared. He’d been my best friend since I was a little kid. Sure, we’d fought like brothers, messed with each other until one of us was crying, but bottom line, we were thicker than blood. Brothers. We were always the first to have the other’s back.

Until the day Jared caused that car accident. The one that stole his mother’s life. That accident had stolen my best friend, too.

An old kind of pain hit me, and my chest tightened. That car accident had stolen everything. Changed everything. None of us had come out looking the same.

Afterward, the guy had fucked away his life, landed himself in juvie, then disappeared for years. I never expected to see him again. When he showed up here last summer, there was no question he was still haunted. I recognized it immediately, because I recognized the same bullshit in myself.

Then he’d gone and taken a liking to my little sister, and all hell broke loose. He and I were too much alike, and I wasn’t about to let him bring my sister down. She deserved so much better than that.

Of course the guy had proven me wrong in every way. He loved her. Wholly and completely. Loved her in a way that girls like Aly deserved, with respect and care and devotion.

How could I stand in the way of that?

Didn’t mean it didn’t make me a little sick to my stomach. I took it upon myself to razz the asshole every chance I got. “Watch yourself, man. No matter which way you cut it, that’s still my little sister.”

He nuzzled her more, this time lifting his gaze to meet mine, the mischief in his blue eyes meeting the challenge. “And no matter which way you cut it, she’s still my wife. This girl belongs to me.”

Aly grinned wildly and leaned back into his hold.

My chest tightened more, because it made me happy to see her this way. Happy she got to have this. Not many of us did. Love like that didn’t come around often, and she’d snatched it up when she saw it, even when it’d seemed dangerous and impossible. But she’d known it was worth it.

I’d been the fool who’d let that kind of crazy love go. Didn’t matter that I’d been just a stupid punk kid, barely sixteen, or that the girl and I were nothing alike and the entire world was against us.

None of it mattered. Not at fucking all. The only thing that mattered was it’d been real.

Cringing, I put a cap on those thoughts, because I wasn’t about to go there. Stupid shit that I couldn’t deal with. Nor did I want to. All it did was leave me feeling pissy and sorry for myself, scorned by a girl I’d always thought would be mine.

Leaving Aly and Jared all wrapped up in each other, I headed for Ella, who was lying on her back on the cushioned play area Aly had set up for her in the family room between their huge-ass overstuffed couch and the fireplace.

“There’s my girl,” I sang as I wound around the couch and knelt down in front of her. Her blue eyes were all bugged out as she watched the lights flashing on the infant play gym set up over her. Five brightly colored stuffed animals hung down from it, teasing her. She didn’t come close to being able to touch them. Yet she had her tiny hands all balled up in fists, her arms flailing and her legs kicking as she stared, fixated, making it clear how badly she wanted to reach out and touch one.

A tiny sound escaped her pursed lips, and my heart throbbed a wayward beat.

Yep, man card at the door.

This little girl owned me.

“Don’t worry, angel . . . Give it a few weeks, and that monkey is yours,” I promised as I bent down and maneuvered her from under the play gym and into my arms. “Come give Uncle kisses before your daddy drags me off to a grueling day of work.”

“Grueling my ass,” Jared shot from the other side of the room. “You’re in the air-conditioned office while me and the guys are out doing the grunt work. I’d say you have it pretty easy there, my friend.”

Laughing it off because what he said was nothing but true, I brought Ella’s face close to mine. She offered me one of those little grins that I felt right in the center of my chest. She reached out, her nails digging into my bottom lip as she grabbed for me. I kissed them. “You take care of your mommy while we’re gone.”

“She always does,” Aly said, watching us with a soft smile on her face. Something shifted in her expression, and she bit at her lip and quickly turned her face to the floor.

I felt the frown crease my forehead. I knew my sister pretty damned well, and that meant I was pretty damned sure she was holding something back. “What?” I asked, my eyes narrowing as I pinned her with a stare.

She lifted her head, blinked, looked away. “Nothing.”

At the same second, Jared tensed up a little, like he knew exactly what was running through Aly’s mind.

Nothing my ass.

My frown deepened. “Nothing?” I challenged, my brow rising.

Aly shook her head and looked almost repentant. Unease slowly snaked its way through my senses. My gaze darted between the two of them. Something was up. Something they didn’t want me to know. A silent tension filled the room.

“Nothing,” she reaffirmed in what I knew was a lie. “I just . . .” She shrugged. “Seeing you with Ella like that makes me happy.”

“Come on, man, we need to get a move on,” Jared cut in, obviously putting an end to my questioning. He walked to the kitchen island and grabbed the small cooler he kept stocked with food, water, and sodas. “It’s going to be a busy day and an even busier week. You may just find yourself on the job. Then I’ll let you complain about work being grueling.” He tossed me a mocking wink, then sauntered up behind Aly, hugging her as he whispered something in her ear.

Below her breath, she laughed and nodded.

Three months ago, my brother-in-law, aka best friend who bagged my little sister, had somehow managed to persuade me into starting a new venture with him. I went straight from a lazy college student, one who gave little thought to what he was going to do with his life after he graduated—because the truth was, he really didn’t give a shit—to business owner in a matter of weeks.

I mean, fuck, me being part owner in the remodeling business with Jared and our other partner, Kenny? All signs pointed at a no-go. I wasn’t exactly what most would consider the ambitious type. But somehow Jared convinced me to team up with him, said he didn’t want to do it without me. Jared and Kenny had fronted the money, and now I was doing my all to live up to it. Turned out I was pretty damned good at it, too, basically running all the business shit that didn’t deal with the hard labor, all of the accounting and paperwork that needed to be dealt with in the office, although the company was growing so fast there’d been a couple of times Jared had hauled me out on a job when he was shorthanded. It was crazy going from scrimping every month to having more money in my bank account than I knew what to do with. I wasn’t loaded by any means, but it sure felt nice not to have to check my bank balance anytime I wanted to buy something.

Truth was, I liked having a reason to drag my ass out of bed in the morning. And I had two. The other one cooed, grabbing my attention. I kissed Ella at the corner of her mouth. “Stay sweet, little one.”

I passed her off to Aly and followed Jared out the door and into the approaching day. Jared climbed into the passenger seat of my truck.

Each week, we traded off driving. We figured after I moved into my new place a couple of miles away, there was no reason for both of us to hike it across town separately since Jared checked in at the office every morning before he headed out to the job sites in a work truck.

After Aly moved out, the apartment we had shared near the ASU campus had felt all wrong. Lonely. I knew it was time to make a change. Plus being so near to them gave me an excuse to stop by all the time so I could hang out with Ella.

I glanced across at Jared as I hopped into the driver’s seat of my brand-new truck, the leather already heating up with the rising sun blazing through the window. He smirked at me, lifted his chin. Guess it wasn’t so bad hanging out with him, either. Honestly, it’d been good watching him come back to life, overcoming the darkness that had plagued him since his mother’s death.

A flash of resentment twisted through me, and I quickly tamped it down. I didn’t blame him. Couldn’t. He’d been through more than I could ever imagine. What had happened wasn’t his fault. I’d made those mistakes all on my own.

I started the truck and shifted into gear. “So what was that back there?” I asked.

His face lifted in a clueless expression. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cut my eyes toward him, watching the little twitch of his jaw when he gritted his teeth. He averted his gaze to his tablet and clicked into his schedule, asshole acting like he was all too busy to look my way.

Right.

He knew exactly what I was talking about.

And whatever it was, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know.

THREE

Samantha

My eyes popped open to the blaring of my alarm clock. I flopped over, smacking at the little button on top to silence it. Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut and wished for five minutes’ more sleep. But all those little kids were waiting for me.

Working at a private school summer day camp hadn’t exactly been my dream when I’d gone to college to get my degree, but it got my foot in the door, and I was all too happy to jump on the opportunity.

I’d always wanted to be a teacher, and if this job meant I got to be around a bunch of kids with eager minds, their little brains sponges, sucking in all the information around them, then sign me up. It was at a small private Christian school about five miles away, and a few of the regular teachers hadn’t been available to work during the summer program, so there’d been an opening.

My insecurities had screamed at me that I wasn’t qualified and that I might not want to work in such an intimate setting, but somehow I’d built up the courage to apply.

I’d loved it the second I stepped through the doors.

Beyond that, it made my parents happy. They loved the idea of me working at a small, conservative school, where I’d be safe and maybe some of that conservative would rub off on me. I was no wild child, like they’d chalked me up to be, and I’d spent the last seven years trying to prove that to them.

Funny how they’d accused me of conspiring with the devil when I was with Christopher yet they’d had nothing but praise for us when Ben had announced we were moving in together.

Warily, I looked over at him where he slept on his back on his side of the bed.

That announcement had come as a big old surprise to me, too. I’d done everything in my power to backpedal, giving up explanations that Ben was only joking around, because he had to be kidding. No sane man would just rent a house and announce to his girlfriend’s parents that they were moving in together without consulting her first.

But that had always been Ben’s way. Making decisions that weren’t his to make. Up to that point, they’d always been small and I’d just shrugged it off. Attributed it to his protective way. Our whole relationship he’d taken care of me. But this? It was the first time I’d begun to question his motives, this elaborate announcement that had made him look as if he were some kind of exaggerated hero, doing all of this for me, and cornering me so that any hesitation I showed just made me look like the unappreciative jerk.

What no one knew was that he’d asked me to move in with him the month before, and I’d told him I wasn’t ready for that.

Yet here I was.

Sighing, I climbed out of bed and headed for the en suite bathroom. I turned the showerhead to high and let the small room fill with steam as I peeled my tank and flannel sleep pants from my body.

That was just Ben—something I had to accept. He always thought he knew better than I did. And maybe he did.

He’d been right about Christopher.

I guarded my heart from the ache that flared at the thought of him, his black hair and searing green eyes, blocked the distinct memory of his laughter, a sound that struck me all the way to the core.

Thoughts of him had been all too frequent over the last week, since I’d run into Aly. A feeling of anxiety and dread had steadily built up in my gut as I thought of how close she was, somehow knowing that made him close, too. Like at any moment, I’d walk out the door and he’d be standing there, that potent smile at the ready to crush me all over again.

The worst part was that the anxiety and dread were growing into something that felt like anticipation, a sweet taste on my tongue that warned that something was to come.

But that’s what I needed to take it for. A warning. Not a promise.

Stepping into the shower, I closed my eyes and let the soothing water rush over me, the warmth washing me of all my pent-up thoughts and regrets, the hurt of Christopher and the worry over Stewart. If I let it, it’d all be too much to bear, and I had twenty-three other obligations waiting for me who all needed my undivided attention today.

Washed and shampooed, I managed to feel refreshed as I shut off the faucet, grabbed my towel, and began to dry off. I wrapped my towel snug under my arms, brushed my teeth, then ran a brush through the long sheets of my light blond hair. So maybe I felt a little too self-satisfied being dowsed in the smell of my brand-new yummy shampoo and body wash. As if maybe using them was just like lifting a big ol’ middle finger, one directed at Ben, one I’d never be brave enough to give him.

One that told him to stop acting like my father and more like my partner.

My lover.

But I’d started to question whether I still wanted him to be either of those things.

An unwelcome cringe assaulted me with the thought, followed by a wave of guilt. I knew I shouldn’t be in this place and with this man if it didn’t make me happy. If my heart wasn’t committed to this relationship. But my heart belonged in a place it should never go, to a man it never should have known, to an entity who was just as callous as Ben and my mother had promised he would be.

This . . . this was where I belonged.

I headed into the walk-in closet that lined the back of the bathroom, the space jammed full of both my and Ben’s things. The house was quaint but nice, a little on the small side, what most new families would consider a starter home.

No doubt it’d be scorching out, so I dressed in a flowy white skirt that went just past my knees, a cute pink top to match, and white sandals to top the outfit off. My pedicured red toenails peeked out, the color almost as red as the natural color of my lips. I brushed on the same clear lip gloss I’d picked up over the weekend.

I never put color on my lips.

For very foolish reasons.

But it was something that had stuck with me all these years.

I was almost tempted to grab one of the lipsticks Ben had surprised me with over the years, all of them left unopened, just to mute the vibrant color out. But doing so felt wrong, like a slap to the perfect memories I had of him, the ones I cherished before everything had gone right down a festering drain.

Hearing the shuffling behind me, I glanced up through the large mirror above the sink to find Ben lumbering into the bathroom, scratching his bare stomach while his mouth was wide with a yawn that was turned toward the ceiling.

He wasn’t an unattractive man. Quite the opposite.

And he definitely knew it.

His dark blond hair was a morning mess and his chocolate eyes watched me with appreciation as he approached.

I shuddered, and he smirked.

This was the part I hated, Ben watching me like he wanted to eat me when I had a hard time thinking of him as something beyond a friend.

“I see someone has left me with quite the invitation this morning . . . can’t say I don’t like it.” His voice was rough with the innuendo, and he went right for the hem of my skirt. He ran his hands up the outsides of my legs, gathering the material as he went, gripping my thighs.

“Sorry, but that’s not going to happen. I have to be at work in fifteen minutes.”

He ground himself against my ass. “I can make it fast.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. No question he could.

Wriggling out of his hold, I sidestepped him, mustering the best smile I could find. “Sorry, babe, but I really have to go. You’ll have to take a rain check.”

Annoyance twisted his face into a scowl. “Those rain checks just keep piling up. You owe me big. One of these days I’m going to keep you in bed the entire day so you can pay up.”

Right.

I always owed him and he never let me forget it. But this was the one debt I was always loath to pay.

His eyes softened, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest. “I just miss you,” he whispered at the top of my head.

Another pang of guilt ribbed me, and I sighed into his hold, remembering how good he’d always been to me. Even though he pulled so much of this overbearing crap, I knew he really cared about me. “I know . . . I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. This new job is exhausting, so by the time I make it home at night, I’m completely spent.”

He kissed my temple. “Just as long as you’re coming home to me at night, that’s all that matters.”

Nodding weakly, I pulled away. “I’ll see you later.”

•   •   •

I hadn’t been lying when I told Ben I was spent by the end of the day. Late Friday afternoon, I turned the key to the lock of our little house, my feet dragging as I went inside. I dumped my purse and keys on the side table next to the door. Blowing an exhausted breath from my lungs, I flopped back on the couch.

As much as I loved those kids, they were filled with more energy than any one person should have. And I swore, every time they touched me, they zapped a little of my own energy and used it for themselves. Hyper didn’t come close to describing a room full of five-year-olds.

From the table, my phone chimed with that ring. I smiled and dragged myself up, never too tired for him. I grabbed my phone and settled back onto the couch.

I opened Snapchat and pressed my finger to the waiting message.

Stewart’s face lit up the entire screen, the biggest puppy-dog eyes begging from the image he’d captured.

Coming to see me Sunday?

Grinning, I snapped back an even bigger, eager smile, pretending it didn’t hurt to see him this way, instead showing him how excited I was to hear from him.

I wouldn’t miss it.

Stewart and I had a standing Sunday date. He rarely felt up to getting out of the house, so I brought over his favorite foods, praying something would seem appealing to him. I’d just hang out with him all afternoon, sitting on his bed and watching funny videos on his laptop or playing video games, even though they weren’t exactly my thing and I was terrible at them.

But for Stewart?

Video games suddenly became my very favorite hobby.

I dropped my phone to the floor and sank into the comfort of the plush cushions of the couch, my legs stretched out and propped up as I closed my eyes and let myself drift away.

When my phone dinged from the floor, I jumped, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The room had dimmed as the sun had declined, evening filtering in through the loose, shimmery drapes hanging across the window.

I rubbed my face. Guess I’d been more tired than I’d thought. When I ran my finger across the front of my phone, I saw I’d been out cold for two hours. Then something inside me went cold when I saw the waiting message that had stirred me, but it was the kind of cold that burned and flamed, a warning of something unknown that I felt approaching like a building storm.

So maybe the text was just from Aly.

It still stopped my heart, as if her words were an extension of him, a tether that led me right back into the past.

Coffee tomorrow morning? 10ish?

I clutched my phone, warring with my decision though it had already been made. It was foolishness to the extreme, I knew, putting myself in this position, but I couldn’t stop my fingers from tapping across the screen.

Would love to. Where?

Five seconds later, my phone dinged with her reply.

Cory’s? Great coffee and even better pastries ;)

Nerves twisted my stomach, and I quickly typed my response.

Sounds perfect to me.

Perfect and completely ludicrous.

Great! C U then.

For a few seconds, I held my phone out in front of me, trying to convince myself to text her back, to tell her something had suddenly come up, some ridiculous excuse that she would know was exactly that.

An excuse.

Something like I’d suddenly moved out of state, never to return again.

Instead I jumped when my phone suddenly lit up with a message from Ben. I grimaced as I read it.

Picked a place for dinner. At Firebird’s by the mall. Will be waiting.

Reluctantly, I stood, gathered myself, and forced my feet to carry me out the door.

•   •   •

The next morning, I slowly pulled into the parking lot where the small mom-and-pop coffee shop rested in a tight corner of the popular plaza. The entire shopping center was packed on a Saturday morning, and I cautiously made my way through the crowded parking lot, searching for a spot. I pretended that I wasn’t relieved, that I wasn’t thankful for those few extra minutes that bought me a little more time.

Why I was so nervous, I didn’t know.

I eased into the first spot I found and cut the engine. The moment the air conditioner was off, heat engulfed the entire cabin. Yet there I sat, unable to propel myself out the car door.

Okay, so maybe the reason I was nervous was glaringly obvious. Because some huge part of me knew this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be here, and that I should run far, far away. The fact that I’d lied to Ben about where I was going this morning was evidence enough.

But the whole brokenhearted side of me, the one that was hoping to gain a measure of understanding? Her voice was just much louder than the one that whispered reason.

Opening the door, I stepped out into the sunshine. I’d pulled on my favorite jean shorts and a cute little tank, flip-flops on my feet. Rays of warmth hit my skin, and I relished the feel. People constantly asked me how I could live here, but I wouldn’t trade the heat for cold. Not for anything. It took someone growing up here to appreciate it.

For a second, I lifted my face to the sky and sucked in a breath of resolve, reminding myself that I actually liked Aly. I truly cared about her and wanted to catch up on her life. Meeting her wasn’t just a messed-up manipulation to bring me closer to Christopher.

With that resolution set firmly in place, I tucked my purse strap tight up on my shoulder and strode toward the coffee shop. I jogged across the busy lane right in front, hopping up onto the concrete landing.

Little metal tables with big red umbrellas were set out in the outdoor patio area in front, pots of flowers strategically placed around them. Misters cooled off the patrons who rested leisurely around the space, enjoying all the deliciousness the place had to offer.

I pulled in a deep breath through my nose as I headed for the entrance, the heavenly aroma of coffee wrapping me up and drawing me forward. I was a coffee whore and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Samantha,” a voice called from behind me, and I shifted my attention over my shoulder to see Aly working her way toward me, the infant car seat handle tucked in the crook of her elbow, the carrier bouncing at her side and her other arm weighted down by an overflowing diaper bag and a huge purse. She rushed across the busy lane I’d just crossed, her smile wide as she approached. A phone rang out from within the depths of her bag, and she lifted the entire load she had on her arm, as if she were contemplating how in the heck she was going to maneuver to reach it.

Awkwardly, I stretched out my arms and giggled as my hands flapped all around, searching for something to take from her. Then I laughed outright, feeling completely useless, standing there with a tiny little purse while Aly looked as if she’d taken on the world. “Can I help you?” I asked, reaching forward again.

Aly released a relieved laugh, one that was completely filled with ease and harmony, as if she found no burden in lugging all of this stuff around. “Oh gosh, thank you,” she said as she shifted the carrier into my hold and turned to dig through her purse.

I was almost surprised by her passing her daughter off to me so quickly, but I was quickly distracted by the sweet baby girl nestled in the seat, wearing the cutest onesie with tiny pink flowers all over it, all the hems edged in a satiny pink. Twisting the carrier around, I held it in both hands, the bottom of it pressed into my stomach, bringing her the closest I could get her. “Good morning, little Ella. How are you today?”

Her wide blue eyes latched onto mine, and she did one of those squirmy smiles where her head rolled back and her mouth lifted just at the side.

My heart swelled, and I cooed softly, murmuring all of her sweetness back to her.

I barely registered Aly’s conversation, though it was clear she was speaking with her husband, her voice lilted in a tone that was obviously reserved for him, playful and affectionate, edged with a hint of seduction. “You can’t do anything without me, can you?” she provoked him, smiling over at me and mouthing, Sorry.

I just shook my head, not offended or annoyed for a second, and instead I turned back to have a little more me time with Ella.

A thud of panic hit me when I realized I’d already claimed a little part of her as my own.

Foolish, foolish girl, I chastised myself. Watch yourself.

This wasn’t my family. Was it wrong that that fact hurt me? That I felt as if there was a huge missing piece in my life?

Yeah, it was probably very, very wrong.

Aly ended her call and tossed her phone back into her purse. “Sorry about that. The second I leave Jared at home by himself, he always needs something.”

My tease was knowing. “He just can’t stand when you’re gone.”

She grinned like a crushing schoolgirl. “Pretty much.” She shook it off and reached for the seat. “Here, let me take that. I didn’t mean to make you a babysitter.”

“Oh, I’ve got her. Let me give you a little break while we order. I want to eat her up, she is so cute.” Adoration filled my voice as I turned back to Ella, who had her sight set on her mom.

Aly shook Ella’s hand, her words soft. “She does have that effect on people.” Aly gestured to the entrance. “Come on, let’s get something to drink. And I’m dying for one of their apple strudels.”

I followed her inside. We ordered and found a little spot in the shade outside. Aly unfastened Ella and pulled her into her arms, relaxing back and sipping from her iced decaf latte. It didn’t matter to me how hot it was outside, I liked my coffee the way nature intended it, piping hot, warming up my body from the inside out.

For a few minutes we rested in the comfortable silence between us. Birds chirped from the tree that grew up close to our table, and there was a distinct calm out on the patio as people took a break from the hustle of their lives, couples chatting quietly with each other, some absorbed in a book, others looking off into nothing at all.

Finally Aly sighed in contentment and smiled across at me. “Thank you for meeting me today. After we left you last weekend, I was a little worried I had put you on the spot.”

I shook my head. “Not at all. I was excited when I got your text.”

Completely freaked-out and panicked, but excited. She really didn’t need to know that, though.

She rested back against her chair, slowly rocking Ella, who she’d shifted up to her shoulder. “So tell me all about you. What have you been up to all these years?”

A soft chuckle fell from me, and I shook my head as I thought of the last seven years, realizing not a whole lot had happened, all the day-to-day stuff that made up a million memories, though very few of them stood out.

“I guess there isn’t a whole lot to tell. I finished up college here this last May, and I got a job for the summer at a small private school not too far from here . . . Which I love,” I added quickly.

“That is wonderful.” She smiled. “I remember you telling me you wanted to be a teacher.”

I nodded, a self-conscious blush landing on my face. “Thank you . . . I did always want it. It feels incredible to finally be finished with school and get started. All the kids are great.”

I took a sip of my coffee. “Sean and Stephanie are both doing really well. Stephanie’s going to school out in California, and Sean is here at ASU.” I swallowed hard. “And Stewart . . .” I trailed off, the lump in my throat growing solid and thick. “He did really great for quite a few years, but he got sick again about six months ago.” Moisture filled my eyes, and I swiped at the wayward tear that slipped free. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get all weepy on you.”

Aly reached her hand across the table, taking mine. “Hey, don’t apologize. I asked about your life because I wanted to know how you are . . . how your family is.”

A swell of gratitude got all mixed up with my sadness, thankfulness that Aly was willing to be there, even after I hadn’t seen her in years and years, thankfulness that she was so kind and seemed willing to just listen.

I didn’t have a whole lot of that in my life.

I nodded a grateful acceptance and continued over my choppy explanation. “God, Aly . . . I thought he was out of the woods and we didn’t have anything to worry about. Then he started feeling weak and developed a cough. My mom took him in to the doctor just to check it out, and in the matter of days, our worlds were turned upside down again.”

Sympathy wet her own eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I hate hearing he’s going through this again . . . that you and your family are going through this again.”

We sat in a few minutes of silence, Aly letting me gather my staggered breath, before she shot me a playful stare. “And . . . ,” she drew out, prodding for something that was so plain to her while I sat there without a clue.

My brow quirked in question.

“Your boyfriend?” she asked, as if it should have been natural that I would first have blurted everything about him, swooning like I should be after I’d met the man of my dreams. A frown crossed her face when she took in my expression, which I guessed to be verging on numb. Her frown deepened. “You did tell me you lived with your boyfriend, right? Did I misunderstand?”

Fidgeting, I laughed off the unease. “Oh no, sorry,” I apologized again, feeling like an idiot. “I do live with my boyfriend. Do you remember Ben Carrington?”

Aly seemed to sift around in her memories before she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Should I?”

I lifted an indifferent shoulder. “Probably not . . . He’s four years older than me and went to high school across town, but he used to hang out with some of the guys from the old neighborhood sometimes, so I thought you might have met him.”

She pursed her lips. “Nope, can’t place the face.” Her green eyes gleamed with a warm mirth. “You’ll have to introduce me sometime.”

“Yeah, sure . . . of course. He’s sells health care policies to small companies. Travels a lot. He’s a good guy.” I described him with all the enthusiasm I could muster, which this morning was about zero. My gaze wandered off to the side because I was afraid it was completely obvious, the lackluster response to her interest in my boyfriend up against the flagrant way my heart hammered with the questions about Christopher that continually swirled through my mind. Inside, I was begging her to mention him, to give me just a hint of what he was doing or where he was.

How he was.

The dimming in her eyes told me she’d caught on to it. She pulled in a deep breath, hesitated, then dropped her voice to a mere whisper as she leaned in closer to the table, careful to protect her daughter’s head. “You can ask about him, you know.”

I lifted my face to her, and that lump from earlier was back in full force, knotting up my throat with unspent emotion. “I’m not sure that I can.”

A war raged inside me, one side desperate and destitute, the other rigid and strong. Funny how the damaged side felt so much more powerful than the fortified.

That scared me.

I was sure that fact was written all over my trembling face.

Aly managed to lean in closer. “Let me ask you something. Are you here because you wanted to hang out with me or because I’m Christopher’s sister?”

That rigid side reared its head, and I met the curiosity in her gaze. “Let me ask you something. Are you here because you wanted to hang out with me or because I’m Christopher’s ex-girlfriend?”

Aly sat back with a wry laugh. “Touché.” Her head shook as if she were trying to make sense of it, to find the straight truth in her answer. That was one thing I was sure I would get from Aly, something genuine and without condition or expectation. It was the thing that kept me sitting in this chair even though I felt more vulnerable than I had in a long, long time.

Apparently the Moores had that way about them.

“Honestly?” Chewing at her lip, she stared across at me, her eyes kind and open. “I was really excited to run into you. But seeing you definitely did make me think about my brother and the way he is.”

I cringed.

The way he is.

Of course I knew what she was talking about, but a piece of me had been holding out hope that he’d become a different man from the one I’d left in that room staring at me without remorse while I stood frozen in outright horror. The night he’d broken every ounce of trust I’d had.

“I won’t pretend that I know all that much about your relationship or what happened between you two. All I know is my brother was the happiest he’s ever been when he was with you.”

Another stake right through my failing heart.

Remorse took up the whole of Aly’s face. “And I know it all fell apart when everything went down with Jared. Watching his best friend lose his mother and then himself. Christopher basically lost Jared at the same time.”

I remained mute, unsure how to respond. She had so much of it right, though there were holes all over her assumptions, all of them punched out by my insecurities and Christopher’s callousness.

Sighing, she hugged her daughter close, as if she were protecting her family as she drifted into the past. “My husband has been through a lot and has overcome so much, Samantha, and I’m pretty sure Christopher got lost in the shuffle. Believe me, he hasn’t said a word about what happened between you two, and I’m going to be truthful and tell you I’ve often thought about it . . . wondering about everything that happened with Jared and how it affected Christopher . . . how he just kind of lost it after. And I’ve thought about you,” she admitted quietly, “wondering if you were okay or if he’d left you broken, too.”

My mouth twisted up with pain, remorse and regret and guilt spinning through my being. That breaking had gone both ways.

Aly flinched, just the smallest fraction, but it was there, the woman insightful. Her head pitched just to the side. “Judging by the look on your face, I’m going to take a wild guess and say it went a whole lot deeper than what happened with Jared.”

It did. It went so deep that it’d cut me right in two. But I wasn’t ready to tell her that. Offering a halfhearted shrug, I issued the lamest excuse I could find. “We were young.” As if our ages had diminished anything we’d felt.

Puffing out a knowing breath, Aly softened. “I love my brother. He’s truly amazing. He constantly makes me laugh. But it goes far beyond that. He’s caring. Loves with everything he has. This little girl?” She patted Ella’s back. “He’d do absolutely anything for her. He is one of the best guys I know when it comes to us . . . to his family. But I know he doesn’t see the rest of the world that way, and he most definitely doesn’t see himself that way. It makes me sad. I worry about him. He’s messed up, but I won’t judge him for anything he’s done in his past . . . just like I won’t judge you.”

I cut my attention away. God, she could see right through me. Finally I lifted my gaze and shook my head in surrender. “It doesn’t matter, Aly. What’s done is done. And neither me nor your brother can undo it.”

Even if either of us wanted to.

She looked like she was going to object, so I interrupted. “Enough about me. Tell me about you. How in the heck did you end up with Jared Holt?”

Most helpful customer reviews

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
Beautiful Second Chance Love Story
By Wendy LeGrand
I have been waiting so long to read Christopher and Samantha's story and now that I've read it I feel like I want to erase my memory so that I can read it all over again for the first time! We first meet Christopher in book 1 of The Closer to You series, Come to Me Quietly, which is Aly and Jared's story. He's a secondary character but we get enough of him there to know that he is a party animal who is basically a manwh0re with a different girl every night. Come to Me Recklessly can be read as a standalone, but if you haven't read books 1 and 2 already, I highly recommend reading this series in order, you will get a more rounded vision of the supporting cast of characters in Christopher's book.

The story is told in alternating points of view, both past and present between Christopher and Samantha, so we get their feelings and emotions first hand. Samantha was raised in a strict household, being a Pastor's daughter. She and Christopher dated in high school but her family did not approve of Christopher at all, feeling he was a bad influence on her. Christopher is trying to deal with the aftershocks of his best friend Jared spiraling out of control from a family tragedy. Coupling this with outside influences and miscommunications, Christopher and Samantha are pulled apart and go their separate ways.

Fast forward 7 years and Samantha has just become a teacher's aide and is living with her boyfriend. She tries desperately to convince herself she is happy and doing what is expected of her. She runs into Christopher's sister Aly and her world comes crashing to a halt. All of the feelings she has tried so hard to bury for the past 7 years come bubbling up and even though she knows she shouldn't, she quickly becomes friends with Aly again and immerses herself in Aly's family. Of course this leads to the eventual first meeting between Christopher and Samantha. Christopher is truly awful to Samantha. First of all, he's with another woman and he says some really horrible, hurtful things to Samantha. Right then, I was like, "Whoa...back this bus up!" What has happened that has caused this horrible reaction from Christopher?? I couldn't wait to keep reading to find out about their past.

In typical AL Jackson style, she reveals the past slowly throughout the story, taking the reader from past to present and giving us both Christopher and Samantha's thoughts and feelings on what has occurred. It takes Christopher a while to finally realize what has been missing from his life for the past seven years, where he was constantly trying to fill the hole in his heart with an endless string of women, only to come to the conclusion that Samantha is the only one who can accomplish this.

It was very endearing to see how Christopher tries to regain Samantha's trust and how protective and possessive he becomes over her. She is still with her boyfriend and she has major decisions to make on where her heart really lies and what it is that she wants for her future. AL does a great job of bringing these two forward, slowly starting out as friends again before building the emotion and finally making them realize they can't live without each other. And finding out what happened in the past that tore these two apart? That nearly broke me! AL writes in such a way that I was completely drawn into the story and felt like I was standing in the room with Christopher and Samantha, watching everything unfold before my eyes.

If you are looking for a book that will run the gamut of emotions and put you through an emotional wringer, this book is for you! You will laugh and cry, your heart will hurt, your stomach will clench, you will have many "awww" moments! I know this quote will probably be repeated a thousand times in reviews for this book, but I have to leave you with this one from Christopher:

"What does it take to delete the past?
A thousand apologies?
A million regrets?
A litany of prayers?
If I shouted them, would you hear?
If I whispered them, would you believe?
If I fell at your feet, would you forgive?
If I asked, would you start again?”

I've probably said too much already but I can't help myself with this book!! This is must read!! Once you've read it I know that Christopher and Samantha will cement themselves in your heart.

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
Beautiful second chance romance
By Misha
4.5 stars. The first two books in this series are my absolute favorite of A.L. Jackson’s work, so naturally I had high expectations for Christopher’s story. I am not surprised that I loved every single page of Come to Me Recklessly. Once again I was captivated by Jackson’s gorgeous writing and ability to make me feel the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. She is a gifted storyteller who draws you immediately into her characters’ lives and never lets you go. I adore second chance romances, especially ones filled with the heightened emotions of this one, and the delicious slow burn between Christopher and Samantha made this book one to remember.

In Aly and Jared’s story we saw that Christopher slept around and was not interested in a relationship. Come to Me Recklessly helped us understand why he was that way. I admit that he didn’t win any points with me early on in the book. Christopher was a wonderful brother, uncle, and best friend. However, the way he treated Samantha in the beginning was infuriating. What had she done to him to fill him with so much hate? As we learned more about his past with Samantha and saw a shift in his actions, I felt myself melting. She had meant everything to him and still did. There was a depth and beauty to their love that moved me and stole my heart.

I spent a good deal of this book wanting to jump into the pages and give Samantha a big hug. Christopher had absolutely devastated her, shattering her young heart and irrevocably shaping her future. Although she was in a committed relationship (with a controlling jerk), she had never even remotely felt the some passion as she had with Christopher. Her internal struggle was palpable. Samantha was still in love with Christopher, but how could she trust him again? The relationship between Samantha and her brother was heartwarming. Even though he was young, I loved that he completely understood her and encouraged her to follow her heart.

There were parts of this book that hurt deeply, but I can always trust Jackson to heal those wounds. The past and present scenes were intertwined perfectly to highlight the emotions of the story and cause me to wonder if Christopher and Samantha would be able to find their way back to each other. Christopher’s intensity and Samantha’s heart were what truly made the book for me. It was wonderful to spend time with Aly and Jared again and see how their lives intertwined with those of Christopher and Samantha. Come to Me Recklessly was a beautiful and powerfully emotional story. This book is the perfect addition to the Closer to You series.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
' I love a second chance romance and I think AL Jackson ...
By Beverly
Come to Me Recklessly is the third book in the Closer to You Series. In this installment we get Christopher and Samantha’s story.

'Would I risk it all on a boy who was the ultimate risk?'

I love a second chance romance and I think AL Jackson is one of the best authors at these types of stories. I love how when I start I always know what to expect in regards to me getting plenty of anxiety, but I never know what to expect in regards to how things will play out for our couple.

Christopher and Samantha were high school sweethearts, but more than that they helped each other through difficult times. Despite their love being real and genuine, things happened and they broke up. The story picks up years later and Samantha is in a relationship with another man and Christopher is enjoying the single life.

Regardless of where they are today or how happy they are, once they see each other again all bets are off. The love story between Christopher and Samantha was difficult and frustrating at times, but real. While reading I was able to empathize with the characters and my heart hurt for them.

“You’re my world, Samantha. Everything I do, from now until the end of time, I’m going to be doing it for you.”

This story kept me captivated from the beginning. At first I wanted to know what caused this breakup and to see how they ended up where they are at. We are able to see this as the story is told in dual POV and alternates from past to present. I enjoyed seeing all aspects of the story and also getting both their thoughts.

AL Jackson’s writing has a way of just completely breaking my heart, in the best possible ways. Her characters are identifiable and easy to relate to, I think that’s why it’s so easy to get attached. I highly recommend if you are looking for a heart warming read with tons of heart and lots of steam.

“It was always supposed to be you.”

ARC kindly provided in exchange for an honest review.

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