Secret Love Read online

  Copyright 2018 Natalie Ann

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without a written consent.

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication- To a new chapter in my life and all those that have helped me expand my horizons.

  The Road Series-See where it all started!!

  Lucas and Brooke’s Story- Road to Recovery

  Jack and Cori’s Story – Road to Redemption

  Mac and Beth’s Story- Road to Reality

  Ryan and Kaitlin’s Story- Road to Reason

  The All Series

  William and Isabel’s Story — All for Love

  Ben and Presley’s Story – All or Nothing

  Phil and Sophia’s Story – All of Me

  Alec and Brynn’s Story – All the Way

  Sean and Carly’s Story — All I Want

  Drew and Jordyn’s Story— All My Love

  Finn and Olivia’s Story—All About You

  The Lake Placid Series

  Nick Buchanan and Mallory Denning – Second Chance

  Max Hamilton and Quinn Baker – Give Me A Chance

  Caleb Ryder and Celeste McGuire – Our Chance

  Cole McGuire and Rene Buchanan – Take A Chance

  Zach Monroe and Amber Deacon- Deserve A Chance

  Trevor Miles and Riley Hamilton – Last Chance

  The Fierce Five Series

  Brody Fierce and Aimee Reed - Brody

  Aiden Fierce and Nic Moretti- Aiden

  Mason Fierce and Jessica Corning- Mason

  Love Collection

  Vin Steele and Piper Fielding – Secret Love

  Jared Hawk and Shelby McDonald- True Love

  Eric McMann and Sheldon Case- Finding Love

  Connor Landers and Melissa Mahoney- Beach Love

  Ian Price and Cam Mason- Intense Love

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Welcome to the Building

  Something Good

  Watching You

  Pretty Sweet

  Mixed Company

  Unsettled Him

  Calling His Name

  Far From Basic

  Make That Move

  Big Talker

  Hidden Away

  Loyal and Committed

  Beau

  Seem Meaningless

  Nicknames

  Any Problems

  Bait

  Will to Live

  Once Again

  Your Girl

  Saving Her

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Vin Steele looked over at the newest member of his squad. He hated them young like this. Like they didn’t know what end of a razor to hold, let alone how to use it. But they were down men and a lot of patrolling needed to be done. Too much chatter on the radio and not enough hours in the day, let alone manpower.

  He made sure his earpiece was set, looked around at everyone else, and said, “Testing. Lift your right hand if you hear me.”

  No one made a sound; everyone lifted their hand. Good, they could follow orders.

  First Class Tim Roseman, the newest member, looked up and smiled. There was no reason to be smiling right now. Not when they were getting ready to leave base. “You’re with me,” he said to Tim. They’d have a little one-on-one chat about staying focused. About staying sharp.

  How this was serious.

  This was war.

  Vin climbed into the Humvee and nodded his head to Tim to get in the passenger seat. The rest knew to climb in the back, gear all in place, ammo strapped on, M4 carbines in hand.

  “Listen to instructions. Don’t go off on your own,” Vin said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vin looked over and saw the smile Tim was trying to hide. He’d give him credit for trying at least. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “Then why are you so happy?” Vin asked, trying to figure out what was going on. Yeah, he could be happy, but not now. Not when leaving the camp. Not even when preparing to leave camp.

  “Just excited to be working with you, sir.”

  Vin rolled his eyes. He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that, and didn’t want to ask. Did he know his name had been thrown around as an up-and-coming commander? Sure, he did. But he didn’t let it go to his head any more than he was letting this frustrating conversation with Tim get to him. If he was one thing, it was focused when he needed to be.

  “Keep sharp at all times.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vin stopped talking at that point and concentrated on driving down the dirt road. It was hotter than the gates of hell right now. Dust blowing around like snow in a Chicago winter storm. Everything was brown and just dismal here, though, not white and pure.

  The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they could get back to camp and the sooner it’d be tomorrow. The faster the tomorrows came, the faster they could all get home safe and sound.

  That was the end game to him. Home. Safe and sound.

  They pulled into the town they were instructed to canvas. Ordered to patrol, even try to find out any information. Look for anything suspicious.

  Chatter was just that. Chatter. Nothing concrete, and everything to make his skin crawl like the nasty bugs he’d never seen before he showed up here a year ago.

  When he shut the vehicle off, his squad got out of the back, he and Tim out of the front. “Stay alert and scope out the area. Keep your distance and look for anything cagey.” He lifted his hands and pointed his team into groups of two, then waved them in the directions he wanted them to go.

  “You’re still with me,” he said to the newcomer. At least his smile was gone, replaced by a bit of nervousness. Nerves could be good if they kept you on your toes. Bad if they made you careless.

  “What are we looking for?” Tim asked.

  “Anything out of the ordinary,” Vin said quickly. He glanced around, didn’t see anything that stood out. “Stay here. I’m going to cross the street and check in the buildings. You keep an eye on the civilians.”

  Tim stayed where he was instructed, his rifle in front of him at attention, his eyes shifting around, taking in everything and anything, Vin noticed as he crossed over.

  He looked into two buildings, all the while keeping his eyes on Tim, ears open to the rest of his team. Not many were talking, and that was the way he liked it. They’d say something if there was something to say.

  He came out of the last building and saw Tim moving toward a child crying on the side of the road. “Halt, Roseman. Don’t approach the subject.”

  “He’s just a kid and he’s hurt. He’s harmless.”

  The gap was closing now, just two feet away when Vin saw the kid’s hand go under his torn and ragged shirt. “No!” Vin shouted, but it was too late—the explosion knocked him off his feet and out cold.

  Welcome to the Building

  Two Years Later

  Vin woke, but didn’t open his eyes, just zeroed in on his surroundings. He was in the apartment he’d lived in for two months now, and there wasn’t a noise to be heard
other than his own breathing. But something woke him and something was off. He’d learned to go with his gut long ago.

  He waited a second, then heard another noise, not recognizing it. He reached over and grabbed his gun from under the other pillow, then sat up fast and pointed it toward the closed door.

  A few more seconds passed and nothing. No noises. No movements, on his part or the most likely imaginary sounds he was hearing.

  Easing out of bed, he quietly made his way to the bedroom door, turned the knob and waited, listened, then moved again, into the hallway this time, his back against the wall.

  He was popping around the corners looking for enemies, his gun drawn and ready to fire, but there was nothing. No one. Just him. Just his mind playing tricks on him. Again.

  He wasn’t having as many nightmares. He wasn’t jumpy twenty-four seven. He’d thought he was improving. He guessed not.

  Before he went back to bed, he walked to the front door and opened it to peek out into the hall. There on his doorstep, was a plate of cookies.

  He rolled his eyes and picked them up. This was the third time cookies were left at his doorstep. The first time, he’d destroyed them, once he’d convinced himself it was okay to even pick them up to begin with. What an idiot move that’d been. Thankfully there was no one around to see him breaking every one apart until crumbs were spread all over the counter.

  After reading the little welcome note on it, he’d realized how ridiculous he was being. He was a civilian now. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder at everything and everyone. Not unless he was working. And even then, he took on the jobs he wanted, when he wanted to. And those jobs had very little risk of life and death to them. Been there, done that and didn’t want to do it again if he could avoid it.

  He was sick of being so jumpy. Sick of looking for the bad in everything.

  He brought the cookies to his kitchen just now and lightly tossed them on the counter, watching them skid across and hit the backsplash. Then he looked at the clock and saw it was barely four a.m.

  His wacko neighbor again. Piper Fielding. Owner and operator of Sweet Eats in town. He knew a lot about her. After she’d left the first batch of “welcome to the building” cookies with her card and handwritten note, he’d searched for everything he could on her.

  Twenty-six-year-old single female. Opened her business almost two years ago, and by all indications was thriving. When he got the second batch and actually sampled her goodies, he could understand why.

  What he couldn’t understand was why she was leaving him plates of food. He’d yet to talk to her once. He hadn’t even crossed paths with her. He only knew what she looked like from her picture on her website, and from when he was scoping her out coming home one day. It was hard to miss her driving around in a bumblebee yellow hatchback with her logo on the side.

  He grabbed a glass and filled it with water, then drained it before he put it in the sink. He needed sleep. He’d been up researching a job until well past midnight. Then something woke him minutes ago, and he was thinking it was Piper sliding the cookies in front of his door. Or so he hoped. Because the other explanation was one he didn’t want to think about. He was getting better. He knew he was.

  He hoped.

  ***

  “Well, did you do it?”

  Piper looked up when Sam walked into the kitchen thirty minutes before her shift. The store opened at seven, but Piper was here hours earlier baking away. Very few things stayed in her storefront window for longer than two days. And if they did, she got rid of them. Either as donations to the local homeless shelters or giving them to neighbors. She prided herself on fresh.

  “I did. Slid them in front of his door before I left this morning.”

  “Have you even talked to him yet? Has he thanked you for the other two plates you’ve left?”

  Piper pursed her lips. “Nope. Haven’t seen him. I don’t even know what he looks like, for the most part. Just that he’s tall and has dark hair and some pretty impressive shoulders and legs.”

  “Huh?” Sam asked, putting her apron on, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder.

  “I saw him walking down the hall one day. He came out his door and turned so fast that I didn’t get to see his face. But the back of him was pretty darn spectacular.”

  Sam giggled. She was just twenty-two, but Piper had known her for years, from a house they both lived in for a short period of time. Sam was a good person who just needed a job. Piper took her on knowing what it felt like to need a chance in life. Now Sam stocked the display cases every morning and waited on all the customers while Piper and Nicole worked the kitchen, baking and filling orders. Pretty soon she was going to have to get some more store help, and try to figure out a way to do it without hurting Sam’s feelings.

  It seemed more and more people wanted cookies and cupcakes, pastries and muffins over cakes. Since she wasn’t a huge fan of decorating cakes, it worked in her favor. That was Nicole’s specialty.

  “Do you even know his name?” Sam asked.

  “Nope. Not a clue. I’ve asked around too. No one knows and everyone has been keeping an eye out and an ear open.”

  Piper lived in a three-story apartment building with four apartments on each floor. She and her mysterious neighbor had the apartments facing the back of the building on the third floor. She liked not having anyone above her since she went to bed and got up so early each day.

  “That’s weird. Have you tried to sweet talk the landlords for any information?” Sam asked.

  “Tried and failed,” Piper said, frowning. “Brought them cookies and all, but I got nowhere.”

  “They laughed at you, didn’t they?”

  “Of course. You know how nosy I am. They know how nosy I am. Everyone does.” Piper laughed. “Sweets get people talking. Nothing is working this time, though.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find something out soon enough,” Sam said, then wheeled the tray of baked goods Piper had lined up, ready for Sam to put up front.

  “Maybe. But for now, we better get to work. I’ve got three orders to get done by this afternoon. Call me if you get busy and need help. Nicole won’t be in until ten today.”

  “I’ll be fine. You do your thing and I’ll do mine,” Sam said, smiling and going about her day.

  Piper put her head down and started to whistle while she filled a piping bag, preparing to decorate the five dozen cookies for an office party today.

  “Piper,” Nicole said a few hours later when she walked in. “I think Sam needs some help.”

  Piper wanted to scream since Sam never said a word. She wiped batter off her hands and pushed through the doors to see a line of people waiting to be served and Nicole jumping in to help too.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Piper asked Sam as she filled a pastry box with one of the brightly decorated cakes Nicole pumped out like an assembly line for her each morning.

  “I know you needed to get those orders done. It was fine until about five minutes ago, and then it was like the floodgates just opened right up. The green floodgates. I had it covered though.”

  Piper giggled. The green floodgates were the gates of money to Sam. “Next time just call me. You know I love mingling with the customers.”

  Sam grinned and filled the orders just as fast and efficiently as Piper. Sam’s problem was she always wanted to prove her worth. Piper got that, understood it even. They came from the same place, both of them just trying to survive. But they were past it now. Sam needed to loosen up a little.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the line had thinned out. Several people were sitting at the little tables taking a break and eating their treats, chatting with friends. Sweet Treats wasn’t a restaurant by any means, but there was seating for easily twenty to mill around and talk if they wanted. She even had open Wi-Fi, trying to turn this into a coffee house for the generation that liked to get out and work outside of four tiny walls.

  Piper went back to the kitchen and finished
baking the second order of cakes she’d been working on. Before she started assembling her third and final order, she detoured out to the storefront one more time. It was relatively quiet right now, so she walked out and started to clean up the tables, talking to those that were sitting there while Sam and Nicole restocked the almost empty showcase.

  “You’ve outdone yourself once again, Piper.”

  She smiled at Quinton, one of her regulars. A few times a week he’d open his laptop up on a table, eat a scone or muffin, have a cup of coffee with it, and silently type away. She always wanted to know what he was working on, but found she couldn’t ask for some reason. It never stopped her before, but with him, she hesitated.

  “What did you have this time?” she asked, wiping down an empty table next to him.

  “The fig-filled matcha muffin. Sam talked me into trying it. I’m glad she did.”

  She loved coming up with new and different recipes, finding people were more adventurous than she’d thought. She noticed more than half of those muffins left, when by now the bulk of the muffins were gone this late in the morning. “I’m not sure everyone feels the way you do about them. Maybe it’s the green coloring,” she said, winking at him.

  He blushed, just like she figured he would. Then she pushed the empty chairs in and made her way back behind the counter. She was just pushing the swinging door to the kitchen when she heard Sam ask the next customer what they wanted.

  “Large coffee. Two blueberry muffins.”

  She’d know that voice anywhere. The male voice that gave her nightmares for a long time.

  The voice that made her stop believing when people told her they were there to help her.

  The voice that laughed at her when she tried to play dumb. Tried to get away.

  She wanted to turn around and blast him, tell him what a horrible person he was. That he might have fooled everyone around them, but not her.