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    Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses: MacGregor Family, #2
    Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses: MacGregor Family, #2
    Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses: MacGregor Family, #2
    Ebook114 pages2 hours

    Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses: MacGregor Family, #2

    By Tiffani Lynn

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Corey Olivas has hit rock bottom. He's lost his job, damaged his relationship with his best friend and risked everything, including his life, to save his sister. Now he's going home from the hospital, alone... without anyone to help him recover. There's no one left, except the one person he should stay away from--she's forbidden. 

    Connie MacGregor has been in love with her brother's best friend since he held her in his arms after the worst day of her life. She's not a little girl anymore, and time hasn't erased what she feels for him. But her family hasn't forgotten how he betrayed her brother in the worst way possible--he's off limits.

    Will Connie go against her family to be with Corey, or will she walk away when he needs her most? Deciding could tear her apart, proving life isn't a bed of roses when you're forced to choose between your family and your heart. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTiffani Lynn
    Release dateJul 16, 2018
    ISBN9781386337805
    Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses: MacGregor Family, #2
    Author

    Tiffani Lynn

    Tiffani is a music loving, baseball adoring, crazed hockey fan. She lives in Florida with her family. Writing romance is a passion for her as well as reading and spending time with friends. 

    Read more from Tiffani Lynn

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      Book preview

      Beauty, Bliss & A Bed of Roses - Tiffani Lynn

      Prologue: Corey

      I’ve been in the ER with Connie MacGregor for four hours. She’s my best friend, Beckett’s 17-year-old little sister, and she’s faced the worst of the worst tonight, so it doesn’t bother me that she’s clinging to me in fear. I haven’t heard from Beckett since he dropped us off, so I’m assuming he’s either looking for that stupid motherfucker who put Connie here, or he’s been arrested. As mad as he was, it’s likely the charge will be homicide if he’s in jail. I don’t blame him, though. I wanted to go with him and kill the little bastard, but Connie cried harder every time I tried to set her down. She’s the priority, so I stayed

      with

      her

      .

      Beckett and I were out eating dinner and having a beer after a long day at work when he got the call from Connie. He freaked. I’ve never seen him lose his shit like that. He couldn’t understand what she was saying but knew she was in trouble, so he had her text him the address where she was. We threw a bunch of bills on the table and rushed out. The address she gave us turned out to be a swanky apartment building in Winnetka, an upper-class section of Chicago. Her current boyfriend’s family has money—lots

      of

      it

      .

      Connie was huddled in a doorway on the side of the building like a homeless person. What we found when we got close to her made me want to rip her boyfriend slowly to fucking shreds, so he’d have to suffer just as she obviously had. It was one of those moments in life where you can picture yourself exploding into the Hulk and tearing the city apart.

      Beckett helped her to her feet, and when she stood I could see most of her bare skin because her clothes were hanging in tatters, obviously torn from her body. Her lip was split and dripping blood, both of her eyes were swollen in a way that you knew they’d be black by morning, and she had blood smeared all over her face and neck. Her normally shiny, smooth, chestnut hair was matted with blood from a head injury she said he had given her by slamming her head against the floor.

      Connie was trying to explain what happened, and Beckett started pacing, so he wasn’t close enough to catch her when her legs gave out. I was, so I carried her to the car and held her all the way to the hospital. I tried to set her down in the seat but she lost it, so I kept her in my lap while Beckett drove. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life, and now I’m covered in blood.

      Before Beckett left me with Connie at the hospital, he called their parents, who were visiting friends in Des Moines. They’re on their way back, but it’ll be hours until they get here. They gave the hospital verbal permission to examine and treat her since she’s barely 17. I didn’t call Connie’s twin brothers to come sit with her because I figured if they got wind of this they wouldn’t come to be with her, they’d join Beckett in his quest to kill Warren Thurston, and that wouldn’t help anyone.

      The worst part of the night, the part I’ll never forget, came when it was time for them to do the pelvic exam. I actually had to sit in the room with her because she didn’t want to let them do it. The asshole raped her, and they needed to gather the evidence. She cried and protested until I promised to stay and hold her hand. I’ve never seen anyone cry as much as she did during that process, and I pray I never do again. The cops came in to interview her, but I told them they’d have to wait until tomorrow. She was in no shape to relive anything else. She’d already answered a ton of questions for the hospital staff.

      Now, I’m sitting in a chair pulled up to the hospital bed with my head on the mattress by her hip. I dropped the railing when she refused to let me go and propped my hand across her hip, where she’s still holding it in a death grip. Even though they gave her a sedative to knock her out, I’m still afraid she’ll come to and lose it, so I’m ignoring the tingles in my hand and arm and trying to rest a little. After tonight, I have a feeling none of our lives will ever be

      the

      same

      .

      1

      Connie

      As of today, it’s been a year since Warren attacked me. It’s a night I’ll never forget. Not ever. Not in a million years. It changed me, ruined me, absolutely destroyed me. I’ve been going to intensive counseling three times a week, since the week after I was released from the hospital and finally graduated to group therapy a few

      days

      ago

      .

      I’ve always been a little on the bitchy side. I had to be that way to survive growing up with three tough, smartass brothers. But now, since the attack, I’m just a raging bitch. I’ve discussed this subject at length with my counselor, and she seems to think with continued therapy, I’ll settle down. She says it’s a defense mechanism to protect me and keep people at arm’s length. It’s doing its job if that’s the case. My family is sick of it, my friends are sick of it, and hell, I’m sick of it, too, but I can’t seem to stop. Sometimes I feel like I have no control over it

      at

      all

      .

      The only person I see outside of my family anymore is Corey, my brother Beckett’s best friend, who stayed with me at the hospital after the attack until my parents arrived. Of course, no one in my family knows I still see him as often as I do because I don’t want there to be questions. He’s three years older than I am and my brother’s best friend, so it may ruffle some feathers. What I really don’t want is for anyone to tell me it’s wrong.

      Thank God for Corey. Instead of my clingy behavior freaking him out, he seemed to take being my protector as his job. There were some nights—a lot more than I’d like to admit—where I was terrified to turn out the lights, afraid of the nightmares that come with darkness and sleep. Those nights I’d call him and allow his deep voice to lull me to sleep. I’d wake up in the morning and the phone would be lying next to me, and I wouldn’t remember saying goodbye. When I asked him about it, his only response was to say, Call me if you need me, I don’t care what time of day or night. I’m here for you always. So, he became

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