New Year's Eve: a Novella
Samantha Young
New Year’s Eve
A Novella
Samantha Young
New Year’s Eve
A Novella
By Samantha Young
Copyright © 2021 Samantha Young
* * *
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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Contents
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
About the Author
NEW YEAR’S EVE
A NOVELLA
Chapter 1
RYAN
* * *
“Will Joe be there?” I asked my sister as I watched Gil work at adding the new lock and second deadbolt to my apartment door.
Shaw sighed heavily, causing the phone line to crackle. “No. He said he’s got a meeting during the holidays that he can’t miss. Who arranges a business meeting over the New Year?”
Apparently Joe.
Somehow, I didn’t think he was telling the truth.
My little sister, Shaw, had called to ask me if I wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with her and her husband, Dex, at a cabin in Lake Tahoe. Dex’s dad Joe knew the guy who owned the place, and he’d offered Joe the cabin over the holidays for free. He’d decided not to use it but had said Dex and Shaw should and invite a friend or two to go with them.
“Dex is pissed. He wants to spend New Year’s Eve with his dad, you know. It’s his dad’s year.”
Dex alternated the holidays with his parents since they separated when he was only four years old.
“Well, I’m in.” Hell yeah, I was in. The only reason not to be was Joe, and he wouldn’t be there.
“Great!” My sister sounded relieved. “I did not want to leave you alone.”
She’d said the same about Christmas and because I didn’t want her worrying about me, I’d spent an awkward few hours with her, Dex and Joe until I feigned feeling ill and left early.
I regretted leaving. But not just because I’d left my sister early on Christmas.
No, I regretted it for an entirely different reason altogether.
But alone on New Year’s Eve? “I would have been fine,” I lied. Maybe four days ago I would have been fine. Not now. Not after what happened.
Gil packed up his tools, shooting me a look that said, ‘I’m done’.
“Sweetie, I’ve got a call coming in I need to take. Call me later to discuss the details, yeah?”
“Yes!” Shaw yelled excitedly. “Wait until you see this place.”
We hung up and the lack of her voice suddenly made me feel lonely and exhausted.
Gil gave me a disapproving look. “You didn’t tell her?”
I shook my head. No way. It was my job to look after Shaw, not the other way around. She might have gotten married at the crazy age of nineteen, but she was still my baby sister and still mine to protect. Even from worrying about me.
“Sounds like you’re planning a trip together. How are you going to explain the shiner?”
I tentatively touched my bruised cheek. “Walked into something.”
My building manager rolled his eyes. “That’s original.”
“Is it done?” I asked, not wanting to talk about it. I’d done all the talking I needed to do with the cops. And it was technically still the holidays. I would not let this ruin my favorite time of the year.
“All done.” Gil handed over a new set of keys. “Like I said, the co-op board is going to move their asses on the new security system at the front entrance.”
I nodded even though I was thinking ‘too little too late’.
Gil had been riding the co-op boards asses for years about the cheap entrance system that continually broke. Most of the board didn’t live in the building but rented the apartments out, so they weren’t invested in the daily maintenance of things like those of us who lived there were. It was just my luck that the entrance system had broken this past week and Gil hadn’t gotten around to fixing it. That was the last time I’d ever choose a first-floor apartment just because I wanted to live in a certain area.
Seeing the guilt flicker across Gil’s eyes, I shook my head. “No. Don’t do that. Not your fault.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled heavily and pulled open my apartment door to leave. “You call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you.”
As soon as he left, I locked the door and slid the dead bolts home.
Leaning against it, I stared into my small apartment and wished like hell it was New Year’s Eve already and I was on Lake Tahoe. My little sanctuary had become a place I feared.
And I hated that.
I hated that someone could do that to me.
A four-foot Christmas tree sat in the corner of my cozy-sized open-plan living area. I’d twined fairy lights over the too many bookcases that filled the small room. A wreath hung on the wall above my largest radiator. I’d replaced my oven mitt with a Christmas one and hung it over the oven door handle. My Christmas tea towels were folded on my small kitchen counter. A Santa Claus propped up on the breakfast bar near the wall in case he toppled.
My place looked cozy and warm.
But if you knew better, you would see the tree was a little squished because I’d knocked it over a few nights ago. My glass coffee table with the bowl of glitter speckled acorns and furry snowballs was missing after we annihilated it in the struggle.
I took a deep breath, trying to alleviate the sudden tightness in my chest.
Maybe I’d take the tree down early this year. Get rid of the reminder.
In two days, I’d get some distance from the place and when I returned, it would feel like home again. It had to. There was no other option. No one was going to make me feel afraid in my own home.
As brave as the little pep talk to myself was, hours later, I was still awake. I’d curled up on my sofa with my blanket and pillow, my ears pricked for the slightest sound. I had barely slept since it happened. Giving up on sleep entirely, I made some hot cocoa and grabbed my e-reader. Needing something light, easy and romantic, I downloaded a rom-com. Unfortunately, it was about a woman who was crushing on her father’s best friend.
It hit a little too close to home.
I shut off the e-reader and tried and failed to forget the last time I’d been alone with Joe.
It had been two months ago at Dex’s twentieth birthday party.
I groaned as I took a sip of my cocoa, almost choking on it. I deserved to choke on it! What an idiot. What a selfish idiot. As someone who had always prided herself on being thoughtful and responsible, what I’d done at Dex’s party was the complete opposite. Why Joe Colchester could make my brain fritz and my hormones take over, I’d never know!
The problem was that I was deeply, deeply attracted to my little sister’s father-in-law.
Memories assailed me, taking me back to Dex’s party.
* * *
Since arriving at Joe’s house, I’d had insistent flutters in my belly waiting for him to show. It had been Shaw who had opened the door, and Dex who had led me out to the poo
l where most of the guests were hanging out. The party was at Joe’s because he had a house with an enormous yard and a swimming pool. All of Dex’s family were there and his friends from college. His mom, Renee, was there because she and Joe were friends and the best example of co-parenting I’d ever seen. Renee had brought her husband, Alan, and Dex’s two half-siblings; twins, Austin and Hopper. I was standing around, beer in hand, talking to Shaw and Renee while Dex was hanging out with some guys from school when I felt him.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I turned to look toward the house.
There he was.
Joe Colchester.
Bi-fold doors separated his kitchen from his patio and they were pushed all the way open so the inside flowed to the outside. Joe stood there, surveying the party in his yard with a slight smile curling his mouth. I felt a deep tug low in my belly. Just at the sight of him.
I had never been this viscerally attracted to a man in my life.
He was rough, rugged, masculine and charismatic. With a prominent, bold, aquiline nose that crooked slightly to the right from a break years ago, and his deep-set dark eyes, there was nothing pretty about Joe Colchester. Joe was a sexy, successful forty-year old. He owned his own business. Started off as a mechanic and opened up his own garage. Then another and another… until he now had garages all over the state of California. He was a smart guy who rolled with the times, so a few of those garages specialized in converting gas engines to electric. At six feet four, Joe had that loose-limbed swagger cowboys were famous for, and the upper body of a man who kept himself in great shape. I hadn’t seen him with his shirt off, of course, but I had a good imagination and his T-shirts had a tendency to strain against the most amazing biceps. Like right then. His navy plain tee stretched across his broad muscular chest in the most delicious way.
Yum.
He kept his dark hair longish, and lately he’d been sporting salt and pepper scruff that only drew attention to his mouth. A mouth with a full lower lip that made a woman want to nibble on it. I’d had many a fantasy about that mouth.
It was wrong.
I knew it was wrong.
But from the moment I met Joe two years ago, I was instantly attracted to him. He was the kind of guy I didn’t even know still existed. Gruff with a rumbly deep voice and a quiet, sly sense of humor. A great dad who would do anything for Dex and now Shaw.
And a serial monogamist.
Shaw liked to gossip wildly about Joe’s love life, and I liked to listen intently.
According to Dex and Shaw, Joe was the most loyal guy on the planet. He’d never dream of cheating on a woman. Unfortunately, he also didn’t seem to know how to settle down. He dated a woman for a few months and then moved on. And he had a type. Usually dark-haired beauties who were looking for a guy to take care of them in every way—emotionally and financially.
In other words, my complete opposite.
Joe was a protector and a provider. He enjoyed taking care of people. He enjoyed taking care of his women, knowing that they needed him. And nine months ago, to my over-inflated devastation, he’d started dating Nicole. Nicole was thirty-six, divorced, and cute as a button. Petite, dark-haired, gorgeous face and she had this tinkly, feminine laugh that was infectious. She was also a sweetheart. I wanted to hate her and couldn’t. She’d been in a terrible marriage, had a nasty divorce, and openly admitted she was looking for a man who would take care of her since she’d never had that. There was something about Nicole that made you want to scoop her up and protect her. And that seemed to work for Joe in a big way.
When they got past the four-month mark, it surprised Dex.
The sixth month mark and Shaw speculated that there might be a proposal brewing.
The very idea crushed me.
Joe and I got along. We shared a similar sense of humor and an ability to be together without having to fill the silence with conversation. Our time together would almost be wonderfully comfortable if it wasn’t for my feelings. I was so aware of every aspect of his being that I think he must sense something because a tension always crackled between us.
I’d like to imagine it was sexual tension, if it wasn’t for Nicole.
Plus, I was not a petite brunette with a need to be taken care of.
I was a tall red-head. And I was staunchly independent.
Suddenly Joe looked in my direction, and our eyes locked. My breath caught in my throat as my pulse raced. Trying to be casual, I raised my beer bottle in greeting and he flashed me that gorgeous, boyish, wicked smile of his.
I felt that right between my legs.
Dirty girl.
Glancing behind him, looking for Nicole, and thus the reminder that Joe was off limits in more ways than one, I noted she was nowhere in sight.
As if reading my mind, my little sister’s voice drew my attention from Joe. “They broke up,” Shaw whispered.
I turned to look at her, my heart skipping an actual beat. “What?”
Shaw’s expression was impassive. “Yup. Two weeks ago.”
“Who broke it off?”
“Who do you think? Joe did. It devastated Nicole because for her it came out of the blue. Dex tried to ask his dad why, but he said it was his business. Oh shoot, he’s coming over. Pretend we’re talking about something else.”
How could I? My mind was racing. So was my adrenaline. And it shouldn’t be!
Just because Joe was single again, didn’t mean I could do anything about it.
I was still sixteen years his junior. And I was still his son’s wife’s big sister.
This selfish feeling of elation was awful and needed to stop.
“Hey, Ryan.” Joe’s rumbly voice was like a caress of his fingers across the nape of my neck.
I turned toward him with a genuine smile. “Hey. How are you?”
“Good.” His dark eyes studied mine before dropping to my beer bottle. “Want a whiskey?”
Knowing my preference for whiskey—a taste we shared—I thought how sweet and considerate it was that he’d ask. But I was afraid if I started too early on whiskey, I’d get drunk and do something I’d regret. “I’ll take one later.”
“I’m gonna go say hello to Dex’s friends,” Shaw said, reminding me she was there.
Joe blinked as if he hadn’t even seen her and gave her a nod as she beamed at him and hurried around the pool. His eyes caught on Renee, who sat on a lounger with her husband while the twins fooled around in the water. They nodded at each other in greeting, and Renee’s gaze flickered to me for a moment. She frowned and then turned back to her husband to whisper something.
I felt my skin flush, like she had caught me doing something wrong.
Sometimes I wondered if my crush on Joe was obvious to everyone or if I was just being paranoid.
Laughter caught my attention across the other side of the pool and Dex’s friends and Shaw chanted ‘chug, chug, chug’ to Dex as he drank beer straight from the keg. I shook my head in dismay. “I think he’s taking this turning twenty-one thing a little too seriously.”
Joe grunted. “Why is it that smart kids are also the stupidest?”
I laughed, meeting his half-amused, half-annoyed gaze. “I honestly don’t remember being that stupid.”
“It was only three years ago,” Joe teased. “If you were that stupid,” he gestured to his son whose face was turning worryingly red, “You’d remember it.”
“I don’t remember ever being that young.”
His expression softened. “Yeah, I guess not.”
I’d been raising Shaw practically on my own since our parents died when I was fourteen years old. We’d gone to live with my mom’s nice enough but completely self-involved and uninvolved Aunt Rachel.
She had left it to me to raise Shaw, who was only ten years old at the time.
I’d been concerned when Shaw told me she wanted to become an environmental lawyer. Not the environmental part. As a freelance sustainability expert, I was proud of that part. It was
the law part. Shaw was an idealist, an optimist, and I didn’t want a life in law to beat that out of her.
Then, I was as horrified as any parent might be when she told me a year ago that she and Dex had eloped. I knew he loved her and I adored Dex but they were young and I was even more afraid my little sister’s optimistic and idealistic nature would be crushed by a short, failed marriage.
Our concern for Shaw and Dex was one of the reasons Joe and I had bonded. However, each of us had conceded that for two college kids, Shaw and Dex were handling marriage and school fairly well. They had help from Joe. He’d let them move into the apartment above his garage so they didn’t have rent or utility bills to pay. The strain of financial worry was not a factor in their marriage, which surely helped a lot.
I would have helped too if I could, but I was still paying off my student debt.
And Aunt Rachel had moved to Italy as soon as I left for college. She’d left us the house, but it meant I was raising a sixteen-year-old all alone while attending classes and working part-time. Once Shaw started college, Rachel had put the house on the market and I’d had to find an apartment.
I was not a typical twenty-four-year-old.
I was all grown up.
Something passed between Joe and me as we stared into each other’s eyes. Something that made my belly flutter wildly and my skin flush hot. Thankfully, I wasn’t a typical red-head with pale skin that flared pink at any sign of embarrassment. Both Shaw and I got our unusual coloring from my mother, who had red-gold hair, olive skin and green eyes. We were her copies except for our eyes. I had our mother’s eyes while Shaw had our father’s blue eyes. We’d both gotten mom’s height too. I was five ten and Shaw was five eight.
Joe suddenly cleared his throat and wrenched his gaze from mine to his son’s. “It’s hard to believe when they’re acting like that, that they’re married.”
