A Perfect Mistake

  A Perfect Mistake

  Book #2

  A Perfect Secret Series

  By Zoe Dawson

  Published by Blue Moon Creative, LLC

  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 events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Mercedes, Mustang, iPad, Harley Davidson Street 750 Motorcycle

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author Note

  I make every effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.

  ISBN: 978-0-9884188-9-9

  Find Zoe Dawson on the web!

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  Cover Design by Okay Creations

  https://www.facebook.com/okaycreationsSH

  Acknowledgments

  I'd like to thank beta reader Sue Stewart. Thank you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills and to my proofreader, Judy Witvoet DeVries. A big thank you also to Sarah Hansen for her fabulous cover design.

  Dedication

  To all who have had to grapple with this kind of situation.

  Chapter One

  Verity

  Please don't let it be Boone Outlaw.

  I whispered it over and over, like a prayer.

  When I first heard the car behind me, my thought was thank God. I knew absolutely nothing about changing a flat tire. I could probably have figured it out, though. But when I turned around at the sound of the truck pulling up behind me, I saw bold white letters stenciled on the side of the truck. Outlaw Landscaping. I groaned. The anger I struggled to keep under wraps surged.

  I guess the odds against it being Boone just weren't in my favor. I was on the road home and Boone was working for my daddy. He was bound to be heading to work right about now.

  I had watched him almost every day from my window, doing his sketching, planning out his work. I was struck by how much he’d changed since high school. Then his hair had been long, too long. The black silk had obscured his face and always seemed to be in his eyes. He’d also been reckless, disorganized, and lost.

  Now he wore it cut short, heavy and spiky across his forehead, just touching his well-formed ears and brushing the nape of his neck. He was conscientious, too, and on time.

  The anger I wanted to hide from him welled up again, and I cursed my stupid car, the tire and whatever had punctured it straight to hell.

  “Verity? Do you need a hand?” I wished he wouldn’t say my first name. It always made my stomach jolt, the way his soft, unhurried Southern accent wove around the syllables.

  “No,” I blurted out too abruptly and too harshly. Boone’s blue eyes narrowed as he took in the jack and the other confusing piece of the jack I hadn’t yet figured out.

  He came up beside me and my skin tingled at his nearness. He sauntered past me. Boone always seemed to do that. Move slow and sexy. He would have to be wearing a tank top and those sinfully tight jeans. They molded to his backside and left nothing to a girl’s imagination. His biceps stood out even though his arms were relaxed, his chest had filled out in the year I had been away, and his voice had deepened even more. He squatted down and surveyed the damage to my tire.

  “Verity, you have the jack backwards,” he said it matter-of-factly, without any of the snark boys use with girls when they think they’re dumb.

  “I would have figured it out,” I snapped.

  He turned to look up at me, his eyes a startling blue in his handsome face. Wait. That wasn't exactly right. Boone was gorgeous. All that dark, shaggy hair, his broad shoulders tapering down to his lean waist, and the muscles that bunched in his thighs. I didn't want to notice. I wanted to hate everything about him.

  “There's no need to get snippy, girl.”

  “I'm not a girl,” I said through clenched teeth. What I had gone through in the past year had irrevocably changed me into a woman. But I couldn’t afford to be ungracious. I had groceries in the car. Ice cream. I’d be a fool not to accept his help. “All right. Fix it,” I said rudely.

  He glanced back at me and I abruptly averted my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” The inflection in his tone was slow and sarcastic with just a brush of the Southern drawl that I had missed so much when I’d been away. Even though I was pissed at him, he made my insides jingle-jangle. How he accomplished that was beyond me. The warring impulses left me feeling ready to explode, because what he’d done to me last summer couldn't be forgiven.

  Suddenly thunder rumbled and I looked up. “Great, a storm.”

  “It always storms here.” He had righted the jack and was pumping up all that steel, his arms and shoulders taut.

  “Get outta the rain. I'll take care of this for you.” He didn't even give me a chance to respond, just continued to work the jack, grabbing that weird iron tool that was on the ground near it. I murmured something about a damn pushy Outlaw and stalked past him to my car, yanked the door open and huffed myself inside. Slamming it didn't alleviate the mad that was hammering through me, or the attraction I was fighting that continued to hum along my nerve endings. It started to pour, pelting the car, and I bit my lip. Why did he have to be such a Good Samaritan? It made me feel like a colossal bitch. But I was the victim here. After what he put me through, I didn’t want to be in his presence another moment. I was determined not to let all that charm affect me.

  I watched in the rearview mirror, hoping and praying he would just fix my tire, get the message and leave. The memory of the graduation party last year intruded on my thoughts. Boone had been there. Wasted as usual, looking so delectable and forbidden, my stomach clenched from the memory. He had a lot of nerve to act like nothing had happened between us that night.

  With a rush like the sound of a waterfall, the skies opened with an even heavier deluge.

  I sat in the car waiting for him to finish. When the passenger door opened and he slipped inside, my head whipped around. Boone, all soaking wet, six feet two inches of sexy, angry, Outlaw settled into my seat. Boone and his two brothers, Booker and Braxton, were triplets. Drop dead gorgeous, identical triplets who made up the unholy trinity. They prowled through our high school—the power of three, keeping bullying at bay. With the exception of a few, most people just got out of their way. Apparently, keeping myself off Boone’s radar wasn’t working for me. My anger spiked.

  “What the hell? You’re getting my seat all wet!”

  "You're freaking welcome, Verity." He glared at me, something I'd never experienced until just now. Boone had never glared at me before. It seemed that everyone had a breaking point and I just pushed the wrong Boone button.

  “Why are you pissed off at me?”

  I stared straight ahead. I just wanted him to get out and leave me alone. “Thanks for fixing my tire, but I’ve
got ice cream in the back seat for the church social and I have to get it home.” My voice was not at all sincere. It was flat, the anger coloring it even though I tried to play it cool. All I had to do was get through this summer with my parents, break the news to them about my plans, and blow out of Suttontowne like it was nothing but a bad memory.

  He just stared at me for what felt like an eternity.

  “What the fuck? You aren't going to tell me, are you?”

  “I'm not angry at you,” I said like an idiot. It was obvious that I was madder than hell at him. He was intelligent and perceptive. Of course he knew I was lying through my teeth.

  His black, wet hair clung to his forehead. A frisson of heat settled in my gut as I watched out of the corner of my eye as droplets of water slipped over his finely formed lips. His t-shirt clung to his hard chest, his skin glistening, and I could see the muscles delineated there.

  The tension in the car shifted and my eyes fused to his. His chest heaved and I found that my breathing went shallow.

  “I didn't take you for a liar.”

  No, he only took me past the danger zone. I said nothing. I had too much to say and it was all trapped in my throat, in my chest, and in my heart.

  He swore softly, pulling his eyes away from me and dropping his chin. All of a sudden and completely against my will, I had the urge—no the craving—to reach over and run my fingers through all that wet, tumbled mess of midnight black. Tears pricked my eyes and I promised myself, again, I wouldn't shed one more tear over Boone.

  “Nothing and no one in this town ever changes,” he growled under his breath. He opened the passenger door and glared at me again. “You would think I’d be used to it by now.” He pushed out of the seat and stood in the rain, giving me such a heartbreaking look, my tears gathered anyway. I couldn't help but be affected.

  He turned then, slamming the door and stalking away. I watched him in my rearview mirror as he kicked dirt and stones on the side of the road, got back into his truck and peeled off.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever had possessed my daddy to hire Boone? It would have been so much easier not to be forced to see him every damn day.

  Tears slipped down my cheeks. I guess my promise to myself was broken. For a split second I remembered Boone at that party, and guilt and shame washed through me.

  Boone Outlaw ruined my life. There wasn’t any way I was going to cut him any slack.

  I was still fuming when I got to the door at the back of the rectory. Boone’s truck was parked over in front of the church, but he wasn’t outside. It was still raining too hard.

  Before I could even turn off the ignition, the back door opened and he reached inside without a word to me, grabbed a bunch of bags, turned, and went into the now-open back door to the kitchen.

  I slipped out of the car, getting pretty wet in seconds, and grabbed a few more bags. He trudged back out and got the rest. Inside the kitchen, I saw an iPad tablet on the table. When I glanced at it, I saw what appeared to be a colorful sketch. But, before I could look at it closely, Boone came back into the kitchen. He set the bags on the counter.

  He continued to ignore me, and that was just fine. He sat back down at the table and started working on the intriguing design I’d glimpsed.

  Lindsay, the day care manager, came into the kitchen holding the hand of a little tow-headed boy. “Boone!” he cried when he saw him sitting at the table. He pulled away from Lindsay and rushed over to him. Boone flashed a genuine smile, turning to catch him and swing him up to eye level.

  I gave Lindsay a smile and she smiled back, opened the fridge, pulling out the packs of juice reserved for day-care, then went to the cupboard and grabbed the crackers. I saw the way she glanced at Boone. It was a mixture of awww, isn’t he precious? And good God he’s attractive.

  “Hey, Henry buddy. Did your momma get you that puppy?” he asked.

  Henry’s blue eyes widened, a gleeful grin splitting his cute little face. “Yes. I named him Bonkers because he hits his head a lot on walls and bonks it.”

  Boone laughed. “Good job. Are you and your momma taking him to the park a lot?”

  “Uh-huh and I gets to walk him every morning, since I’m the man of the house.”

  Boone’s voice softened, “Yeah, how’s that going? You still miss your daddy a lot, huh?”

  “I do. I wish he hadn’t died and gone away.”

  My heart turned over and clenched at the sound of his forlorn little voice, that, even at six years old, was filled with the pain of the loss butting up against all that sweet innocence.

  I swallowed hard when Boone wrapped his arms around Henry and squeezed him once. “It’s really hard to lose your daddy. I know how that feels.”

  Henry’s blue eyes studied Boone’s face and his small mouth turned down, looking sad and sympathetic. “Did your daddy die?” He patted Boone’s shoulder.

  “No, he just went away and didn’t come back.”

  “That’s kinda mean and kinda like dying. You don’t gets to see him again.”

  Boone nodded and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Hey, you wanna draw a picture of your puppy on my iPad?”

  His face brightened. “Yeah, shore do.”

  I just stood there, caught up in the ease with which Boone had picked up the little boy and set him on the table in front of him, conversed with him. A hard ache settled right under my breastbone.

  “Hey, Verity.”

  I jumped, startled. I had been caught up in the touching exchange between Henry and Boone and had totally missed seeing Billy Joe Freeman at the kitchen door. He was a bit wet from what looked like a dash to the kitchen. I wondered where he’d come from. I hadn’t noticed his car, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t parked somewhere. I was so preoccupied with Boone madness I’m not sure I would have notice a purple elephant. Had he been waiting for me? That kind of creeped me out. He was a decent looking guy, but there was something about his eyes that unsettled me. He was always staring at me like I was a juicy piece of meat.

  Billy Joe and I had gone out a few times in high school. Dates that I found excruciating. He was polite and nice enough, but the relationship had only been a few days old when he’d started getting demanding. I only agreed to go out with him because my daddy suggested we get together. Now, he thought I was his girlfriend and I just wasn’t. Had never really been his girlfriend. I’d tried to make that clear several times without much luck.

  “Oh, hi, Billy Joe.”

  He glanced at Boone who ignored us both, exclaiming over Henry’s picture.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner tonight.”

  “No. I wouldn’t…”

  “I think your parents are coming, too. Your daddy wanted me to ask you,” he said in a rush before I could finish what I was saying.

  “Oh, well, if my family’s going. Sure.”

  Lindsay took Henry’s hand and headed out of the kitchen. Boone gave Billy Joe a narrow-eyed glance before returning his attention to the tablet.

  Billy Joe shifted, glanced at Boone again, and his eyes flashed with anger. There were a lot of people in this town who judged the Outlaws. But Billy Joe was studying to be a preacher. He shouldn’t be harboring any kind of ill will towards any of the Outlaws. Boone included, even though he was a complete bastard.

  Well, I guess he wasn’t a total jerk. He had been so kind to Henry. Made me wonder how someone like that could have been so underhanded and selfish.

  “I’ve got to get this stuff put away,” I said, hoping Billy Joe would just get out and leave me alone. I didn’t want to encourage him. My daddy wanted me to, but Billy Joe Freeman was not my future. That was for sure. I had tried to be the perfect daughter, but the truth of the matter was that horse had left the barn a year ago. If my daddy ever found out, he’d be so ashamed of me. I had to make sure he never found out, because I didn’t think I could handle that kind of disapproval from him.

  Finally, Billy Joe said, “Oh, okay. I’ve gotta get b
ack anyhow. See you tonight. The dinner is at The Gardens.”

  I nodded absently, preoccupied with something much bigger and more pressing than dinner with Billy Joe Freeman.

  “I landscaped that place two weeks ago. It’s a great place to eat,” Boone growled and got up, kicking his chair back.

  “Thanks for your unsolicited critique,” I sneered. Now that he was talking to me, I couldn’t seem to even pretend I wasn’t pissed at him. Just let him ask me again why I was mad at him!

  He took a step forward, this time there was no slow about him. This time he was coiled and tough-looking, his wet hair across his forehead like a rebel biker. “But Brax is a better cook.” His eyes were different now, a stormy blue and…what? “You should take your boyfriend to Outlaws.”

  My heart started to pound and shock made it pound even more. He sounded…jealous. Madly jealous. That had to be my imagination. Boone hadn’t made one step toward me in the whole time I’d known him. He hadn’t said boo to me, even after we’d….best not to think about that now. He’d simply left me hanging out to dry after that night.

  Oh, he’d stared at me, but a lot of guys stared at me. Partly because I was the preacher’s daughter and they wondered if there was any bad girl in me, and partly because I looked more like a bad girl than I did a preacher’s daughter. I so had to be mistaken and my anger was clouding my perceptions.

  I thrust my chin forward, nervous about having a confrontation, because my daddy never let me say my piece. But Boone wasn’t my daddy and I didn’t have to take any of his shit and I wasn’t going to. “He’s not my boyfriend and why don’t you mind your own business, Boone?”

  There was complete silence in the kitchen and my angry words echoed in my head. He walked up to me with that sexy swagger and kept coming so that I had to back up. My lower back hit the kitchen counter and he braced both hands on either side of me, caging me in. His chest tightened against the white t-shirt. I could see the thick ridge of his pectoral muscles and the dusky disks of his nipples. They were hard and I wondered absently if it was from the air conditioner or if it was because of me. That thought sent me into a tailspin.