Hopelessly Devoted, page 1
Hopelessly Devoted
Scorned Women’s Society Book #3.5
Piper Sheldon
www.smartypantsromance.com
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, rants, facts, contrivances, and incidents are either the product of the author’s questionable imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or undead, events, locales is entirely coincidental if not somewhat disturbing/concerning.
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Copyright © 2021 by Smartypants Romance; All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, photographed, instagrammed, tweeted, twittered, twatted, tumbled, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without explicit written permission from the author.
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Made in the United States of America
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eBook Edition
To J.R., always
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And to you reading this ... Yes, you!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Sneak Peek: Forrest for the Trees by Kilby Blades, Book #1 in the Green Valley Heroes series
Sneak Peek: My Bare Lady by Piper Sheldon, Scorned Women’s Society Book #1
Also by Piper Sheldon
Also by Smartypants Romance
Chapter 1
William
The man in my bed was beautiful. I stood at the threshold of the bathroom to admire the view of the stranger. The outside streetlight cast through the window to highlight his sleeping form. Sprawled as he was, the sheet covered just half of one leg exposing one perfectly shaped calf. The toned muscles of his back narrowed down like an arrow that seemed to point right to his phenomenal ass. In the low light of the night his shaggy dark blond hair was almost enough to make me think … if I just squinted just right …
“Admiring the view?” He rolled over and the illusion was broken by the American accent and brown eyes.
“Yes.” I smiled as best as I could for being unable to feel how the left side of my mouth lifted. It gave the impression of a coy smirk. Or so I’ve been told.
“Why don’t you come back to bed?” He lifted the sheet to give me more of a show. Well, he had the same cockiness at least.
I ran a hand over my beard and contemplated the offer briefly. I was tempted. I couldn’t remember his name. We met at a bar. I was drunk enough. He was close enough. I took him home, taking advantage of having the apartment to myself. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep after we fooled around but now I wanted him to leave me alone to be with my thoughts.
My phone vibrated on the bedside table. He was closer and reached for it. He handed it over but not before his gaze flitted across the picture on the screen unapologetically.
“Sanders? Cutie.”
I frowned.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to look,” he teased with flirtation in his gaze. “Only one reason a man calls this time of night.”
“He’s my partner.”
The man raised a well-manicured eyebrow and pursed his lips before saying, “He can join us.”
“Business partner,” I clarified gruffly.
“Too bad,” he said with a flirtatious pout.
“I have to answer it.” I hated how my voice sounded, hated that I had to talk at all. It was better when there was no talking.
He just shrugged and reached for his own phone.
I cleared my throat and gave a pointed look to his jeans lying across the floor.
He stood unabashedly and sighed. “I’ll just be going, then.”
I turned away to answer.
“Hello?” I whispered.
“Skip. Skippo. My man,” Sanders said.
“What time is it?” I asked even though I knew it was after midnight. I didn’t want him to know I was awake. I didn’t want him to know somebody was here.
“I messed up.” Sanders’ voice was high and manic. I knew this voice. There was a long call ahead. I muted the line and said, “I’ll walk you out,” to the man watching me.
“No need. I’m a big boy,” he said. He kissed my cheek and started to walk away. Right before I unmuted the phone, he turned back and said, “Hope your friend knows how you feel about him.”
I ground my teeth but couldn’t find the words to defend our friendship. Many people have accused me of that over the years. But Sanders only saw me as a brother. And that was fine. We were lucky to have such a strong relationship. I was lucky.
He shrugged and I unmuted myself. “Okay. Hold on. Waking up. Just give me a second.”
I lied because it was easier this way. We didn’t talk about my hookups not because he cared, because I cared.
“You messed up? You’ve been gone barely one day,” I said.
“Yup.”
The cute man gave one last flirty wave before leaving. Not for the first I wondered if I would have given him a chance, would it have led to something more? There was an attraction at the bar that seemed to be gone now. Plus, I didn’t have time for a relationship right now. Not when Sanders needed me. He just lost his father and was not doing well.
“Okay. Back up.” I went to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. “Start from the beginning.”
Sanders was obsessing. He shared everything from when he left Denver for Green Valley, Tennessee. He told me it was to help our struggling corporate adventure company, Outside the Box, but I knew it was because of the woman he met, Roxy. The regret was clear in his voice. Things weren’t going like he hoped they would. He thought he’d show up to Green Valley and confess his feelings and everything would be better.
That did not happen. She freaked out.
I warned him to give her some space. I had actually met Roxy once. She was like me in a lot of ways and I imagined Sanders showing up to confess his love … Okay, well, that analogy didn’t work. But I knew she wouldn’t like it. She would need time to process and he needed to understand that.
Sanders felt guilty about what happened at the conference but he was making up for it by finding a new obsession. I didn’t like how he sounded. I didn’t like how close this all happened to the death of his father. I sighed to myself.
“You know, I was planning on going out there anyway. I’d been looking at flights,’’ I said. I reached for my laptop.
“What? No, mate, you know I’m fine,” he said with his fake laugh.
“You’re sure?” He could fool others but he never could fool me.
“Of course. I always am. I’ll clear this up. And I will nail this account. Getting more business by the day. All good things.”
I closed my eyes again, rubbing them until I saw spots.
“It’ll be fine,” he said and I could hear the sleep in his voice finally settling in.
He needed me. He needed me to talk him off ledges and advise him on what to do. I was here to take care of him.
“Okay, Sanders. Just be careful,” I said softly.
“Hmm,” he hummed already drifting off. I disconnected the call to let him sleep.
I needed to go to him and make sure he was okay. It was my job to make sure he was okay. This was how things worked. Ever since he saved my life, I’ve been saving his. He was there for me when nobody else was. He came off as so strong but he was more sensitive than most. I had to protect him.
Looked like I was going to Tennessee.
Chapter 2
William
The drag queen blew me a kiss and I pretended to catch it and press it to my heart. My unintentional smirk got me a wink in return. Three drinks in and the tension had started to melt away. Coming to Knoxville was the right decision. The best-reviewed gay bar was having a drag show and these queens were just the over-the-top distraction that I didn’t know I needed.
Each lady was more over the top than the last and I was happy to get lost in the warmth of the atmosphere and loud music. I sat in a small booth in a dark corner by myself. I wasn’t looking to meet anybody tonight, but if I saw somebody that seemed interested, I didn’t know if I had the strength to say no. My first day in Green Valley had taken so much out of me.
Nobody seemed to pay attention to me. Better that way. I wasn’t great company tonight. Or ever. That wasn’t ever an issue when most of the time I met guys in the bar or gym. There was never a lot of talking.
The theme tonight was “Ladies of Broadway” and the fiercest green queen dressed as Elphaba just lip-synched her heart out to a recording of “Defying Gravity.” The whole bar cracked up at the innuendo of her hip thrusts and exactly what defied gravity.
She finished her number with a very pointed, “And you can’t bring me down,” as she dropped to her knees. Applause filled the bar.
Even in the happy atmosphere, an image of Sanders came unbidden at the poignant lyrics. The true lyrics. He always thought he could fly without limits. He always pushed himself too high. He was Icarus, and I chased under him with arms wide open. Sanders’ fall today shook me more than I could let on. Things w
I swallowed down the rest of my Jameson when I thought of his pale face under the icy clear water of the rushing stream. I squeezed my eyes tight to push the image away. It was replaced with the image of their longing gazes on the Lodge couch today. Sanders was worse off than I thought. He was already acting reckless. This thing with Roxy was more than a harmless crush. I scrubbed my hand over my beard and shook clear the images of them. The room spun as I blinked back to focus on the show around me. I needed to drink some water. I hadn’t eaten enough for this level of drinking.
A loud voice from the speakers broke through the haze. “Next up, our very own hussie from Down Under will take a break to sing. You heard that right, ladies, no recording for this bitch. Those are all her own pipes. Please welcome Sandra NoDee to the stage.”
As the emcee stopped talking, the flashing colored lights stripped down to one spotlight on the small stage. The music was a mashup of sound clips and songs from the movie Grease like, “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee,” and something about virginity. Also mixed in with, “Howya doin’, hot stuff?”
On stage was the Sandy Dee of the end of the film. This queen had blonde hair teased to the sky and leather pants that revealed just how good she could tuck. The bar whooped and hollered as she turned around to shake her ass in her tight pants. Her Adam’s apple was prominent through all the makeup and her calves threatened to break through the seams of the leather, but she wore the hell out of the outfit and she knew it. She strutted around the stage, snapping fake gum and patting her skyscraper blonde hair.
I laughed with the rest of them. She shouted, “Shut up, you shrimps on the barbie. I’m about to sing.”
Sanders would have cringed at the painful attempt at an Australian accent. I took another deep drink. It seemed there was nowhere I could go without being reminded of Sanders on some level.
The steel guitar twanged loudly in the now quiet bar. I finished my drink and whispered to order another when the server came around.
It wasn’t the high sweet voice of Olivia Newton-John but lower and equally lovely. She leaned against a barstool, winding the long cord around fingers with inch-long nails.
The whole bar grew rapt in her words. None of us were the first hearts broken, but the pain was universally felt of unrequited love. Her melodic rich tenor rang through the air and the energy shifted to that maudlin sentimentality that only a group of drunk people can evoke. This song hit different when I’d been drinking and feeling sorry for myself.
Couples wrapped their arms around each other, rocking and sharing sad smiles. Some leaned in for a kiss. All around me affection and love. And here I was sad and alone, drinking myself morose, thinking about my straight best friend as a drag queen made me choke up. This was definitely a low point in my life. A sharp pain in my chest felt like somebody was stomping on it with Sandra NoDee’s stilettos. The words hit too close to home. There was nowhere to hide. I was beyond out of my head, here in a foreign city chasing after a wounded Sanders, only to watch him literally fall over a woman.
A group of women in the corner—dressed for a bachelorette party—fluttered their hands at their faces, tearing up. They clearly interpreted the song in a much happier manner than me. I saw a futile and unrequited love that never stops hurting. They saw the devotion of impending marriage vows. That’s what being in a relationship did to a person.
Sandra NoDee stepped off the stage in patent leather stilettos, gracefully making her way through the crowd as money was slipped casually into her hands and outfit. She sang so beautifully people were more than happy to shell out the cash. Though I was hidden in the corner, I could sense the moment she honed in on me. My loneliness flashed like a beacon in the darkness.
She came to stand in front of me, holding out a hand until I grabbed it and stood. She made an over-the-top shocked face and fanned herself when I came to stand almost equal to her height despite those insane heels. She looked me up and down dramatically as the crowd whistled at me. I flushed down at my shoes. I never felt comfortable being in this body, and when I got “good looking,” I only felt more self-conscious.
She sang directly to me. She held the word “you” out so perfectly it spread goose bumps down my arms. She spoke to my soul. No matter what, I wouldn’t stop being devoted to Sanders. He was the reason for who I am today. This passing fling with Roxy was just that. He’d come crawling back home when he realized what a strong team we were.
The whole room watched us and I felt my emotions crawl up my throat, stealing my words. I hated being the center of attention. After she finished singing, she asked my name and put the microphone to my mouth.
The words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t make myself speak. My Adam’s apple bobbed uselessly in my throat. The whole room waited and I felt every second like a vicious sunburn on the back of my neck. If I tried to speak now, it would come out as a stutter. A couple guys whistled to encourage me. Somewhere the whispers started and the sympathetic awes. My stage fright was painfully obvious.
The light in the room shifted. It was like my brain lifted out of my body and disassociated from me completely. My fingertips began to tingle and my breath came too fast. I’d felt this before. I knew what was coming. Usually Sanders was there to walk me through them. But Sanders wasn’t here, was he? Sanders was nowhere to be seen. Sanders was mooning over a woman. Being taking care of by her. Forgetting about me and the life we built together in Denver.
I mumbled some weak apology and pushed past the queen to the exit. Behind me I heard her say, “I’m known to leave men speechless.” The crowd cheered and the show went on.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop the panic attack now. It was here. I just needed space. I needed to get away from people.
I was so embarrassed. So ashamed by my weakness. What was wrong with me? I was an idiot. I was such a sad pathetic idiot.
I made my way to an alley that was free of people. I gulped breaths of air but it was too late. It wasn’t working. I couldn’t catch my breath. What sort of man has a panic attack at a drag show? What would people say? I am a freak. I am all alone. I’m so alone.
Chapter 3
Jack
I’ve worked with enough troubled kids to recognize the signs of someone trying to lose themselves. I had my eye on the hot lumberjack since the moment he walked in. Me and a few others kept shooting him glances in a futile attempt to get his attention but he was in a whole other world tonight. All my warning bells warned me, “This one has issues. Stay Away!”
I’d let the others take their shot with the hot mess express. And damn, he was hot. He had this intense gaze that even a lighthearted drag show couldn’t shake. His strong bearded jaw worked with each swallow of his drink, so it was nearly impossible to look away. Though it was hard to get a good look at his build, his broad shoulders nicely filled out his flannel shirt.
Okay, so I would look, but I wouldn’t touch. Instead, I chatted with some guys I saw here often. There were locals of Knoxville and one was a member on the UT staff with me. I only glanced to the sexy lumberjack once or twice. I wouldn’t let myself be drawn to him. I wasn’t in the market of saving anyone from their demons. Been there, done that.
