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    Ebook92 pages1 hour

    Stay

    By Dahlia Rose

    2.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Lieutenant Hart Temple had one rule in life and it was the KISS method. The acronym meant ‘keep it simple stupid’ and so far it worked for him. He liked his military career, riding his Harley Softtail, a good bar fight on occasion and a good book, the classics not some of the new crap out there. The last one know one really knew about but again talking about himself wasn’t a simple thing to get him to do. Off deployment and with eight weeks to kill he decided to take an extended road trip.  How did he know that his bike would bust a gasket and he’d be stuck in the small town of Honeywell Georgia and staying in little strip motel ran by Crystal Cantrell.

    Her daughter Kaydee was always asking questions a six year old shouldn’t know. Until his part came in he was stuck in Hopewell for a few weeks. Who knew that he’d actually start to like Crystal? She and her kid were totally ruining his rule of life and being a father figure wasn’t on his list of credentials.  But when he saw the guys who were giving her trouble at her motel and the way her body responded when he kissed her.  For the first time Hart thought about putting down roots, he wanted to claim Crystal with the light brown eyes, yet panic set it at the thought. Hart didn’t know if he was built to the kind of man she needed and Crystal made him feel things he didn’t understand. He had a choice to make, a big one when she whispered the one word that could change both of their lives… Stay.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDahlia Rose Unscripted
    Release dateFeb 4, 2017
    ISBN9781386936374
    Stay
    Author

    Dahlia Rose

    Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

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      Book preview

      Stay - Dahlia Rose

      Chapter One

      The days were hot, the nights were cool, and Lieutenant Hart Temple loved experiencing both from the back of his Harley Softail. His final destination was the Florida Keys, a motel with a bar close to the pool, and endless amounts of white sand. Maybe he’d rent a boat and do some fishing. He had no set plans, nor did he want any. Set plans meant a schedule, and he was on vacation from Uncle Sam’s army. He spent every day following the rules and working by someone else’s schedule. When he got his leave, Hart left his uniform in his townhouse and the car pulled into the garage. He got his bike out and threw a duffel bag over the back before setting off. He didn’t look back and wouldn’t think about his MOS change or duty for his eight weeks extended leave. This was his time for peace and quiet if he could find it.

      He wasn’t about parties and women, not like other men with a few weeks’ leave who were horny as hell. He wanted to be alone and if someone decided he looked like an easy mark and had beef with him he’d fix it quickly and efficiently before getting back to his cold beer. He had a few things he wanted to catch up on in his duffel, aka some reading, and that was good enough for him. His sunglasses kept the glare of the sun out of his eyes and the music from his iPod was pumping in his ears. Metallica kept him company as he passed the large sign that said Welcome to Georgia. He was exhausted and would probably stop for the night in Savannah and grab some dinner on River Street. He heard the seafood was great in Savannah. His bike had other plans because the smooth ride he was having started to change. He revved the engine, hoping that it was just air in the fuel lines, but no such luck.

      Come on, baby, don’t do this now, he muttered as he looked around.

      He pulled off at the exit and got to a rest stop before it cut out completely. He tried to get it started again but to no avail. His baby was dead and wasn’t about to go anywhere. He’d rebuilt her from the frame up himself and knew every part as he looked the bike over. He soon found the problem. He’d have to get the part from a mechanic or order it online. God knows what the shipping time would be because his girl was a vintage piece. He wouldn’t know exactly until he found some place to stay, got on his laptop and made a few calls. He looked around. He’d have to walk and push his bike to the closest motel. He began his walk, passing the signs that read Honeywell, Georgia, Population: 700. He rolled his eyes. Great I’m stuck in the armpit of a dead-end town.

      Hart got a lucky break when he spotted the Honeywell Motel a mile down the road. For a rinky-dink town he expected peeling paint and a neon sign that only partially worked. But this place was nice, painted in a cream beige color and stonework at the bottom. The landscaping was nice. There were plants and trees blooming with blossoms of huge white flowers. The weeping willows were heavy with yellow flowers and the air was sweet. Hart kicked the stand down to balance his bike. He grabbed his duffle off the back and walked into the office. The air was cool inside; he could feel the breeze against the sweat on his neck. Somewhere, someone was vacuuming. He walked up to the desk where a woman behind it was bent over some books.

      He cleared his throat. Excuse me, are you booked solid?

      When she raised her head, her face stunned Hart. He pushed his sunglasses so he could see her clearly without the tint. The woman was gorgeous, with soft brown eyes and long, dark hair that was meticulously curled. Soft bangs lay on her face, parted to one side, and her skin was flawless. She studied him with narrow eyes and a frown that made him immediately wonder what it was about him that she disliked.

      If you’re from the Deuces so-called bike club, let me tell you again that no more of y’all are staying here.

      She stood with her hand on her curvy hips. Hart’s gaze traveled down her body. She was maybe five-three, five-five in her heels, and stacked in all the right places.

      And you can call Sheriff Layton again and he can try to force me to do it because he’s in your pocket, she snapped, but I’m putting my foot down. No one wants you in Honeywell.

      Ma’am, you may have me confused with someone else, Hart said.

      She looked him up and down. Biker boots, duffle bag, criminal features... Nope, you’re exactly who I think you are.

      Not all guys who ride bikes are criminals, he pointed out.

      In Honeywell, yes, you are. She pointed under the table. My daddy’s twelve gauge is under this desk and, trust me, I don’t need to be a crack shot to hit your big ass frame.

      Hart smirked. He liked spunky chicks. He took his identification out and slid it across the counter. Lieutenant Hart Temple, ma’am. United States Army out of Fort Irwin in California. I was passing through to Florida and my bike died. I‘m just trying to get a room until I can figure out what’s wrong with it, get it fixed, and move on.

      She studied his ID and gasped. Oh, God, I am so sorry! Fudge it all, fudge, fudge, fudge! This is what it comes to—me profiling people because of the cheese and crackers Deuces. My sincerest apologies, Lieutenant. You can of course get a room and I’ll comp you the first night for my rudeness.

      Fudge, cheese and crackers, huh? he teased.

      She shook her head and sat in front of the computer. I’m trying to stop cursing. I have a potty mouth. We have a nice room available with a view of the pool. Let me get you in the system and get you a key.

      Where can I get something to eat around here? Hart asked.

      Next door is Emma Lee’s Homestyle Restaurant. She’s about seventy-five with a firecracker of a personality but her food is to die for, she said. Tell her I sent you and she’ll treat you right.

      I’d do that if I knew your name, Hart said.

      Crystal Cantrell.

      She smiled up at him and Hart forgot how to breathe. When they used the term sweet as apple pie, well, they obviously meant her and she was the brown sugar version.

      Crystal handed him a card. This is for you. It’s the second to last room down the driveway. Again, I’m so sorry for being insulting to you.

      Seems you have a reason to, Hart replied and watched her face darken. Yeah, there was something wrong in this tiny town but it wasn’t his business. He wanted to fix his bike and hit the road.

      Mommy, Mommy, that big guy kicked over the flower pots outside again and laughed at me!

      He heard a child’s voice

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