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Going Too Far

Abbi Glines



  Copyright © 2022 by Abbi Glines

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at abbiglinesbooks.com

  Cover Designer

  Damonza.com

  Editor

  unforeseenediting.com

  Interior Designer

  theillustratedauthor.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  To Marlana Grela- one of the most magical humans I’ve ever met. I’m lucky that I get to call her my friend.

  Acknowledgments

  Timeline for Dean Finlay

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Epilogue

  Connect with Abbi

  To Marlana Grela-

  one of the most magical humans I’ve ever met. I’m lucky that I get to call her my friend.

  Acknowledgments

  I wrote a book during the fall of 2012 that changed my life. FALLEN TOO FAR was written for me. I was in contract with my publisher to write five more books in the Sea Breeze series but I needed a break from those characters. So, like many authors do, I wrote the story that was talking to me.

  Rush and Blaire became the backbone of the Rosemary Beach Series. FALLEN TOO FAR was my first New York Times bestseller. FOREVER TOO FAR was my first #1 New York Times bestseller.

  The son of a world-famous drummer and the step-sister he didn’t know or want from a small town in Alabama. They were the beginning of it all.

  Now, ten years later, Rush’s famous father – Dean Finlay gets his story. Readers have been asking me to write this for years. When his story finally came to me I was excited to sit down and join that world once again.

  Those who I couldn’t have done this without:

  Britt always is the first I mention because he makes it possible for me to close myself away and write for endless hours a day. Without him I wouldn’t get any sleep.

  Emerson for dealing with the fact I must write some days and she can’t have my full attention. I’ll admit there were several times she did not understand and I may have told my five-year-old “You’re not making it in my acknowledgments this time!” to which she did not care.

  My older children who live in other states were great about me not being able to answer their calls most of the time and they had to wait until I could get back to them. They still love me and understand this part of mom’s world.

  My editor Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing for not only doing this last minute because I suck at deadlines but also for helping me make this story the best it could be.

  My formatter Melissa Stevens at The Illustrated Author. Her work always blows me away. It’s hands down the best formatting I’ve ever had in my books.

  Damonza for my book cover. This cover could not be more perfect. They are always a pleasure to work with.

  Abbi’s Army for being my support and cheering me on. I love y’all!

  My readers for allowing me to write books. Without you this wouldn’t be possible.

  Timeline for Dean Finlay

  1990

  Dean 21 years old–Rush Finlay was born (Mentioned in Kiro’s Emily)

  2014

  Dean 45 years old–Nate Finlay is born (Rush’s son born in Never Too Far)

  2022

  Dean 53 years old–Going Too Far

  2037

  Dean 68 years old–Like A Memory (Nate’s story takes place when he is 23)

  one

  dean

  A blunt was required when having to endure lunch with the president of the junior college I had attended for one semester back before Slacker Demon, the rock band in which I was the drummer, was formed. The best marijuana money could buy should make this bearable.

  When my CPA had told me I needed another tax write-off, I had chosen to donate to my only college alma mater. They were always asking for donations. I figured they needed it. Besides, if I was going to move back to the Florida Panhandle, then I needed to invest in the area.

  I hadn’t expected to be invited to lunch and asked if I would speak at next year’s commencement. Why the fuck they wanted a guy who didn’t have a degree speaking, I did not know.

  What the hell would I say to the kids anyway? Good luck with those degrees. Do some drugs, but not too much. Rock on.

  I inhaled the last bit of relief before pulling off my sunglasses and heading inside the main office on campus. The air-conditioning didn’t seem to be pumping hard enough to cool the building down. Must not be in the budget to keep the office staff comfortable during the summer months. Hopefully, lunch wasn’t going to be here. If I had to endure an ass-kissing by a middle-aged man, then I’d prefer to at least be comfortable.

  Pushing the door open that was labeled Office, I stepped inside, and a breeze hit my face. I sighed in relief, turning to see three box fans going full force. They weren’t making things cool precisely, but slightly more bearable.

  “When I text you, I expect you to respond, Cam.” A frustrated female voice caught my attention.

  I turned to see the back of a woman with thick brown hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun with a pencil through it. She had a hand on her hip, and the blue sundress she was wearing clung to her curves. Probably from sweat. Although all three fans were pointed in her direction, they weren’t enough against this Florida heat.

  “That’s not an excuse,” she snapped at the poor guy on the phone. “I don’t care,” she told him. Then, she sighed heavily. “Okay. I love you. Call me as soon as you get there.”

  I winced. The dude was being kept under her thumb. I fought back the urge to yell, Run, man! Run like the wind! There isn’t a pussy worth that controlling behavior!

  I glanced around to see if anyone else could direct me to the president’s office, but we were alone. I would have to wait for her to finish smothering the guy she was talking to. Then, it occurred to me that perhaps I could save him from this phone call. I needed directions, and Cam needed off the phone with that one.

  I cleared my throat loudly.

  “I have to go,” she said then spun around, and her eyes locked on mine. I saw them widen slightly as she put her phone down on the desk in front of her.

  “Hello, Mr. Finlay. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t hear you come in. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too
long.”

  There were two things I realized in that moment. The first, she was sexy in that naughty librarian sort of way. Her eyes were so big and bright blue that you had to stare at them a moment before moving on. Her lips were full and painted a pale pink, and she had a rack on her that was hard to ignore. The second, I understood poor Cam a little better. He was probably around her age, and she was young—my guess would be mid-twenties. For a guy that age, hot pussy was a powerful force in his life. Perhaps it always would be. The life I had led numbed me to the power women yielded. I knew the deception that they could mask so well. My son’s mother had been a lesson I didn’t need to learn twice.

  “Are you done with him? Or do you need to bark more orders before you help me?” I asked, wanting to point out her flaw. I’d like to say it was to make her think about how she spoke to her boyfriend next time, but it was for selfish reasons.

  I didn’t want her to like me. No matter how tempting she was, I had sworn off younger women. I was too old for that shit. It was time I started dating women that didn’t want to reproduce and have families. I had a family. My son’s family. I didn’t want to raise another kid. I hadn’t been that great at it the first time.

  Those eyes that had appeared so angelic narrowed slightly, and her nice, full lips thinned out. I’d pissed her off easily enough. I’d assumed it would take more rude comments to turn her against me. Normally, it took a lot more damage for a woman to look at me that way. Even after I was done with groupies, they smiled and thanked me as they left. I wasn’t a young man anymore, but I was Dean Finlay. My fame allowed me to get away with a lot. Women and most men forgave me anything. Ass-kissing was something I expected.

  “Yes,” she said in a cold tone, and her shoulders straightened as she held my gaze, not once softening the glare she was shooting my way. “Please follow me,” she added.

  Then, she turned so quickly that the pencil slipped from her messy bun, and more hair than I’d expected tumbled down in loose curls almost to her waist. It reminded me of a chocolate river—or maybe that was the marijuana getting to me. Either way, that shit was gorgeous. I wanted to run my fingers through it and see if it was as silky and smooth as it looked.

  She picked up the pencil and muttered something under her breath, then came around the desk and gave me one last annoyed glance before heading for another set of doors across the room. I enjoyed the view of her ass swaying while she walked ahead of me.

  Oh, yes, Cam, I understand why you are putting up with her mouth.

  We walked in silence, and the urge to see how angry I could make her took over.

  “Are you a student aide?” I asked her, knowing it was very unlikely.

  “No. I work in admissions,” she said curtly.

  I couldn’t remember the last time a female had spoken to me with such little interest. I was a rock legend. She knew my name; she knew who I was.

  “Must be a shitty job,” I said. “Or are you always this … pleasant?”

  She stopped and spun around to look at me, her hair swinging with the sudden move. I liked the way it did that. However, I had just made her angrier. There wasn’t even a pretend smile on her face. She was making it clear that she did not like me and my fame was of no importance to her. Damn if I didn’t like that. This was something new.

  “I enjoy my job,” she replied sharply, then knocked twice on the door to her left.

  She didn’t comment on the other, and it was clear no one had ever called her out on her attitude. Probably the way she looked. I was sure she’d gotten her way most of her life. I decided to push her a little more. See if I could make her snap.

  “Your mama ever tell you that beauty is only skin deep?” I asked her as I leaned a shoulder against the wall and studied her.

  She raised her eyebrows at that question.

  A deep, “Come in,” came from the other side of the closed door.

  “Did yours ever tell you to mind your own business?” she shot back. Then, a smile appeared on her face as she opened the door and stepped back. “Have a wonderful day, Mr. Finlay.”

  I wasn’t ready for this to end. It was entertaining. I was enjoying myself. She would be fun to fuck with. Literally and metaphorically.

  “Mr. Finlay!” a voice boomed, and I knew my time with the spunky little minx was over.

  I kept my gaze locked on hers as I stepped past her and into the office that had to be at least sixty-five degrees. Looked like this was where the college’s air-conditioning budget was being spent this summer.

  “Thank you, Brielle,” he said to the brunette, and she nodded, then closed the door as she left.

  Reluctantly, I went into performer mode and turned my attention to the man in front of me. “Please, call me Dean.”

  The man’s face beamed at me. It was a look I was used to. The one I’d expected. The one that Brielle hadn’t given me. Not even once.

  two

  brielle

  Silence. It wasn’t something I was used to. Now, the moment I came home from work, I was surrounded by it. It sank in, and my chest ached. The deep kind of ache that made it slightly hard to breathe. Life was changing, and this was just the beginning. If I was struggling already, then how would I handle the day I watched him drive away in a car without me? Or the day I would have to drive away, leaving him at whatever college he chose?

  I forced a deep breath in and sank down onto the kitchen chair closest to me. Placing a hand over my heart, I gave myself a moment to snap out of it. Cam had just left for camp for six weeks. He had worked so hard to help me pay for it. This had been his dream all year, and he was getting it. I should be happy about this. Music camp was all he’d talked about this past year. Last August, his music teacher at school had mentioned that Cam would benefit from it, and Cam had been determined that he’d get there.

  “You are more than Cam’s mother, Brielle. You’re a strong, independent woman who has a good job and needs to accept that your son is growing up. You need a life too,” I said aloud to myself. I just wasn’t sure I was listening to me.

  Sighing, I stood back up and walked over to the fridge. “You also do not need to eat chocolate ice cream, sit on your butt, and watch Netflix. You need to go for a run. Organize the hall closet. Read one of the books you bought that are piled up, unread, beside your bed,” I told myself while reaching into the freezer for the ice cream.

  I wasn’t in the mood to listen to myself tonight. This morning, I had put Cam on a bus, headed for camp two hundred thirty-six miles away from me. I needed this ice cream. And possibly an entire bottle of wine. I had never been away from Cam that long. He had never stayed away from me for more than a night before, and even then, it was just at a friend’s house.

  Then, add to it the fact that he had begged me for one thing before he left: to get Dean Finlay’s autograph. Dean Finlay had been his idol from the moment Cam fell in love with the drums. Slacker Demon had once been my favorite band, but life had happened, and I had changed. It would figure my son would idolize Dean Finlay. I’d been prepared to get his autograph for Cam today, but then the arrogant ass had opened his mouth. I’d failed Cam, but he needed a new hero. The one he had sucked.

  Slipping off my high heels, I kicked them toward the door and took my ice cream to the living room. There was a new season of Sea Breeze streaming, and I was going to watch it while I ate my feelings. Just before I sank down onto the sofa, my iPhone started ringing. I looked back toward the kitchen. I’d left it on the table. Normally, I would ignore it, but not with Cam gone. There might be an emergency.

  The idea that he might need me had me running back to the kitchen to jerk my phone off the faded blue Formica table I’d bought three years ago at a consignment store.

  Clara, my best friend’s, name lit up the screen. She knew Cam had left this morning, and this was her check-in call. Unlike me, Clara lived like most twenty-eight-ye
ar-old single females that I knew. For example, she got regular manicures, went shopping for clothing, and went on dates.

  If I didn’t answer her, she’d be over here in less than twenty minutes, bringing her bubbly personality inside my apartment. I needed to wallow alone, so I decided to answer.

  “Hello?” I said, putting the phone to my ear and turning to walk back to the living room.

  “Okay, hear me out,” she began, which meant she was about to suggest something I did not want to do. “I can come over and help you get all fixed up, and then we’ll go out to Chandelier tonight. You never go to the clubs with me, and I get it because you want to be home for Cam, even when he is staying the night at a friend’s, but whatever. Tonight, you need to get your sexy ass out of that apartment and go have fun. Meet a guy. Or guys. The sky is the limit!”

  I scooped my spoon into the ice cream, waiting to see if she was going to keep talking. After a moment of silence, I knew it was my turn to speak. “It’s been a long day,” I said, and Clara groaned on the other end of the line. “It has been. I’m emotionally spent. Work was …” I paused because telling her about my very negative experience with Dean Finlay would have her freaking out. She was a huge Slacker Demon fan. Her past and mine were not the same. “It sucked, and then of course, Cam is gone. I just need a night to adjust.”

  “So, you’re saying, tomorrow night, you’ll go out with me?” She jumped on that quick, and I knew she wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I replied, not really meaning it.

  “You can’t bullshit me. You know that. You’re going out with me tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time you even went on a date, Brielle. It’s been years. Literally years! What was his name, Jonah or Noah? I don’t remember. Doesn’t matter. You just went out with him twice. It is time to live. Put yourself out there. Have some fun this summer. Hot girl summer!”

  I rolled my eyes and stuck the spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. She made it all sound so fun. Didn’t she know how much fun ice cream and binge-watching my favorite TV drama was? Probably not. Clara was my opposite, and she was also the reason we were friends. When she was set on something, she grabbed hold and didn’t let go. For some reason, eight years ago, that something she’d latched on to was me. I had needed family, and she had become just that.