Southern Hearts: Standalone Best Friends Brother Romance Read online

  Southern Hearts

  Emily Bowie

  Southern Hearts

  Copyright @Emilybowie2020

  Kindle edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photography, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Design by: Jersey Girl Designs

  Contents

  1. Haven

  2. Danger

  3. Haven

  4. Danger

  5. Danger

  6. Danger

  7. Danger

  8. Haven

  9. Haven

  10. Haven

  11. Danger

  12. Haven

  13. Haven

  14. Danger

  15. Haven

  16. Danger

  17. Danger

  18. Haven

  19. Danger

  20. Danger

  21. Haven

  22. Danger

  23. Haven

  24. Danger

  25. Danger

  26. Danger

  Wild Hearts

  Other books by Emily Bowie

  Steele Family Series

  Standalones:

  Oakport Beach Series

  Anthology

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with me!

  One

  Haven

  Frankie, my best friend, is still fiddling with my long, wavy red hair as we step out of her small beat-up white truck. My lips feel sticky with all the pink lip gloss she painted on them. My eyes feel heavy with the fake eyelashes, and I can’t stop tugging at the bottom of my halter top that refuses to touch my jeans, showing off my belly button. This is not me.

  Normally the freckles that line my nose and cheeks are like summertime badges of honor, but right now they’re hidden behind a mask, much as my heart that’s been ripped in two is concealed with the unaccustomed armor I’ve donned tonight. As the Rachel Platten song states, this is my comeback. I need to show everyone that I am okay—so they stop walking around like I’m some broken girl who they can’t be themselves around. I hate how they look at me differently now. I hate how they act. The only one who doesn’t is Frankie. She gets it. I’m not the first girl to have a broken engagement. Frankie has had two. I’m just happy my engagement didn’t go any further, knowing what I do now.

  Taking a deep breath, I plaster on my smile, square my shoulders, and hope tonight will help take away the pain. We’re two counties over at the closest bar that has a dance floor. Our town, Oakport Beach, is too small to have one of these. It helps to know that if I make a fool of myself, no one will be here to see it.

  “Well, aren’t you the prettiest Sunday school teacher I know?” Frankie’s brother, Danger, teases, sliding up to us. He has on his signature Wrangler jeans that hug his ass perfectly, big belt buckle, and a button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled up, showcasing his large muscular forearms. He has a drink already in hand that he tilts up with his greeting. My feet pause at his compliment, and that familiar warmth circles my heart. In this second, he is the man who I’ve crushed on for almost my entire life but have never been able to grasp onto long enough to say he’s mine. His deep-blue eyes hold mine, and I almost forget that Danger is the biggest flirt in Oakport Beach.

  I stop myself from swooning, knowing his compliments are as abundant as water and they mean nothing. He’s the town’s flirt. Being his younger sister’s best friend, he’s made it more than clear that he and I could never be more, even if we’ve blurred the lines before. Not that any of this matters. My heart is in no shape to give itself out again.

  I refuse to notice things about him like how his abs clench when he’s on his practice bull riding equipment, or the fact that he always pays me a compliment when we see each other. I know I’m not supposed to notice how he smells like hay and pine most of the time. I stopped caring about these things long ago, realizing Danger only wanted to protect me like a little sister and loved to insert himself into my business only to use it against me later.

  “I thought rodeo season was becoming too busy for you to make it back home?” Frankie prompts beside me, the disdain in her voice giving away her annoyance that Danger and his friends are here tonight.

  He shrugs and begins to defend himself. “I made it home for the bachelor party–” His words die on the tip of his tongue, and he looks at me then averts his eyes quickly.

  This is what people do. My canceled wedding comes up in some sort of fashion, and they shrink away, scared they’ve said something wrong. I thought Danger would be different. He’s being too nice. I want what we had before, when he’d tease me relentlessly for no good reason other than to get under my skin.

  I hit Danger in his stone-like chest. “Don’t you start being one of those people,” I scold him.

  His eyes search mine, his thick brows ruffled, his lips slightly sliding together like he does when he concentrates. “I’m your best friend,” he says on a sigh. “I would never be one of those people.” He sounds hurt that I would even say this.

  Maybe I am being too hard on him, on everyone. I don’t even know anymore, and clearly people don’t know how to act around me. They sure know what to say behind my back, in hushed murmurs. I hate those whispers I pretend not to hear. All I know is that my heart feels like it’s been shredded, and I don’t know how to repair it. For the first time in my life, I feel lost. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. I hate the church folks talking behind my back. I hate this need to escape everything in my life, including the mere thought that now I need to find a new place to live.

  Frankie clears her throat, narrowing her eyes on her brother.

  “Face it, sis. I’m the one who introduced the two of you. I saw her first, talked to her first, and had the first playdate, making me the best friend.” He smirks at Frankie while giving me a wink. That’s Danger for you. “I’m here to guarantee that Haven has a kick-ass night.”

  “Yeah, we are!” Crash, Danger’s real best friend and cousin, says while strolling up with Wade, the local bartender, and Ruben, the baker in town.

  That reminds me I owe Ruben money for the cake he made. I can feel my eyes prickle with wetness as I try to fight it off. Too many wedding thoughts is not a good thing. Danger pulls me hard into his solid chest. My feet trip over themselves at his sudden actions, and I’m left standing awkwardly, my breasts pushed against his muscular body. I fight it, not wanting the attention, but he refuses to let me go. Only then, when I embrace it, do I begin to feel like I’m able to breathe normally again. But it’s part of my whole cycle. I loosen up, and more tears escape me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I remind myself I will not cry anymore because of that selfish jerk.

  “See? She’s so grateful she has tears in her eyes, and that’s why I’m the best friend.”

  I hide in Danger’s strong hold, hoping everyone believes him; otherwise, I’m going to humiliate myself further.

  I’m never falling in love again. There is no reason for it. I can inspire my Sunday school kids and make a difference in their lives. Keeping my eyes tight, I remind myself, I can do this. Slowly, my eyes loosen and open up again, the tears at bay, before stepping away from his strong
embrace. Placing on my fake smile again, I murmur, “Thank you, guys.”

  “Danger, you get us drinks while I take our girl dancing,” Frankie directs, and she pulls me by my hand toward the half-full floor.

  Danger is giving me his lethal smile. The one that ropes in every girl he has ever shown it to, including myself one summer.

  “Haven, you need to break out of your shell.” He’s talking so close to me that I can smell his cologne. The way he looks at me - is more like he wants to break me out of my clothes. Tonight is about moving on and not making mistakes, I have to remind myself. As his name states, Danger is the biggest risk to me. He says all the right things, makes me feel safe and cherished, but it means nothing. I’ve been a victim of this too many times in my life.

  My hand instinctively closes the distance by going to his chest and slowly trailing down his shirt. “How do you propose I do that?” I ask.

  My head is screaming for me not to touch him, but I’ve always had this pull to him, even when I know better. When my finger circles his bottom shirt button, I realize what I’m doing, and I step back, hoping to clear my head from his trance, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

  “By riding the bull,” he says like this is fact and a no-brainer.

  My head is right in the gutter. I look right down at his crotch, thinking about his bull. I swear his jeans look a little tighter in that area, reminding me how big he is down there. I giggle. This isn’t me, but I like this girl. These fruity drinks are what I needed to have some fun.

  He takes a step away, distancing us farther, and points his hand. “That bull.”

  My heart sinks that he doesn’t return my mediocre flirtation. I should have known better. I’ve been designated as always the friend. Even when we kissed, it has never meant more.

  A mechanical bull turns and bucks around as people try to stay on for at least eight seconds. No one makes it, falling into the plush cushion surrounding the area.

  “Not happening.” I bring up my finger, waving it to say no.

  He ignores me, pushing me forward. My feet hardly move as he brings me closer to the area. “The line is far too long,” I protest.

  “I can fix that.” With confidence, Danger starts weaving us through the crowd. “This girl was just left at the altar,” he tells the lineup, making me groan. He’s never been the sensitive kind.

  “Not really,” I mumble, not that anyone can hear me with the music and all the chatter around. The congested area parts, allowing Danger to push me to the front. He always gets what he wants, case in point. He asks, and people jump to it.

  “Danger, I can’t.” Turning, I try to get away. I must look like a scared little cat.

  “Here’s the deal. You stay on for eight seconds, you move in with me. You fall off, you can move in with your parents.”

  Here I thought everyone would be scared to talk about my doomed nuptials. Maybe that would have been better.

  “Haven, you have nowhere to live. You can’t stay on Frankie’s couch forever. It’s time you start moving on and stop wallowing. It’s been over a month, your time for sulking is up.”

  Ouch, harsh. I can’t fake my smile any longer. I go to leave, needing to get home before the waterworks start all over again.

  “Aren’t you tired of crying?” he questions a little softer, but he still pushes me toward the mechanical bull until the massive foam padding is at my feet. “Don’t let that asshole define who you become,” he says behind me, into my ear. I hate that he has a point. Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to take a chance.

  “Eight seconds?” I confirm. Let’s be honest; no one wants to move back into their parents’ house after they’ve moved out.

  With shaky legs, I crawl up and stand next to the fake bull. I look at it, deciding the best way to get on. With zero grace, I try jumping. I sprawl my body over it so one foot is over just enough to help pull myself into position. I hold the knobby thing on the seat, lifting one arm as I have seen Danger do so many times. The mechanical bull starts slow, going up and down as it does a small circle. Each second, the tempo gets faster, that red cushion under me coming closer to my face with each dip. How does Danger do this for a living? I’m scared, but more frightened of falling. It looks like it would hurt.

  Up, down, and turn, my body is being jerked around. I have to fight for dear life to stay on until gravity wins out. I fall, hitting my head on the side of the mechanical bull. I don’t even feel the cushion under me.

  Two

  Danger

  Haven’s bright red hair flies up and down each time the mechanical bull pushes her forward then back. I can see the determination in her eyes that she wants to stay on for the eight seconds. A part of me hopes it’s because she wants to be near me, and not because she has no other options.

  Her knuckles are white, her tiny body being thrown all around. I’m unable to take my eyes off her. Her facial expression is the same from all those years ago...

  Danger, 13 years old

  Haven, 11 years old

  “She’s a girl. There is no way she can get on the roof,” I say to my cousin, Crash, right in front of Haven like she’s not there.

  The thing is, Haven is all I can see, even though I’m not looking at her. She’s wearing one of her cute yellow dresses with white flowers on it. Every Sunday, she wears a dress and looks so damn pretty.

  I hear her gasp beside me before I feel her hand pushing against me. Removing my attention from Crash, I look down at her. Her legs are slipping as she tries to push me any sort of distance. It’s adorable she thinks she can move me. Lifting my hand, I place it on her forehead, and she works twice as hard to shuffle me an inch.

  Her face is starting to turn red. “Stop or you’ll overexert yourself before the ice cream is given out.” It’s the only reason us kids stick around after church. That banana chocolate ice cream is the best, and this is the only place we can get it.

  “Derek Danger.” She stomps her foot at me.

  “I would correct you and say it’s Danger, but only women call me that.”

  She scowls at me, and I love being the center of her attention. She can give it to me as much as I deal it. Most of the other girls just giggle when I tease them, but not her. I like seeing how she’ll react.

  “Anything you can do, I can do better.” She crosses her arms and nods confidently.

  “That roof is way too dangerous for a girl.” I laugh.

  “It sure is.” My cousin backs me up. We both cross our arms over our chests, telling her this conversation is over.

  “Why did you have to tell Haven about our secret spot? Now she’s going to run to the preacher and tattle,” my other cousin, Epic, complains while coming toward us.

  I look from him to Haven. She’s no rat, but I don’t voice that. Her lips are pursed in a scowl that scrunches up most of her face. She’s cute as hell, even with her face all twisted. I look back to the roof and know without a doubt it’s much too high for her. She’s never going to make it. If Haven could climb up to that roof, I might be scared she could climb through my bedroom window and strangle me.

  She huffs, turning away from us, making everyone laugh. The instant she leaves, I feel bad. Laughing could have been taking it a little too far. But in all honesty, a roof is no place for a lady, especially in a dress.

  Us boys hang around till the ice cream is served before returning to our place in the yard. Normally, Haven and my sister join us back here. If our parents see us all together, they won’t call us in.

  “Where are the girls?” I ask, lying back on my forearms and eating the delicious treat, pretending it’s a general observation, when really I can’t stop thinking about Haven and how determined she looked.

  “You boys have gone and done it now.” Frankie stomps her way to us. Unlike Haven, I don’t think Frankie has worn a dress a day in her life.

  “Did we take all the ice cream?” Crash teases her.

  “Haven is on the roof because of you.” S
he points her finger right at me.

  All our eyes look upward, where I see Haven standing awkwardly on the roof, hanging onto the cube-like walls that host the church bell.

  I can’t see her face, but I know she’s scared. Haven’s whole body is rigid. If she really wanted to go up there, I would have taken her. But I have to admire how brave she’s being. She’s not crying or yelling for help. She lifts her hands off the wall and shuffles away, coming closer to the edge.

  Her eyes stay on the shingles with each step. I can see the smile wanting to tug her lips upward, ready to scream out her victory.

  Her bright emerald eyes shine with pride as she comes near the edge. I’m going to have to eat my words after this, and a part of me is excited for her. I don’t mind pretending that it didn’t matter, when she and I both know the truth.

  Her eyes leave the roof and collide with mine. They’re vibrant, and I want to scoop her up and hug her. I have to say I’m damn proud of her. Then her face falls, her eyes grow large, and I instantly know that face. It’s a face that knows something bad is going to happen. Her hands come out in front of her, trying to steady her legs, but they get caught up in her dress. The exact reason I said she couldn’t do it.

  It feels like my heart is in my throat as I watch. Everyone is silent, our ice creams falling to the ground unnoticed.