Enamored Read online

  Cara Wade asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictionally, and any semblance to the actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First published May 2020

  Copyright © Cara Wade 2020

  Published by: Crooked Crown Publishing

  Developmental and copy editing provided by Kendra Gaither at Kendra’s Editing and Book Services

  For anyone who needs a push to follow their dreams, this is for 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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Check out my other releases

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Lana

  “No. Absolutely not.” I wave my hands in front of my face while shaking my head.

  “This is right up your alley, Lana. You’ve been telling me for months you want to do more domestic projects. A call came in, and I thought of you right away.” Eloise Quill, my elderly boss, clacks her manicured pink nails on the keyboard in front of her and gives me a tight smile. I know this smile of hers well. She uses it to seem polite, but it’s really her way of letting someone know she’s made the final decision.

  I shouldn’t be fighting her on this project. This is exactly the type of work I’ve been trying to do since I joined Quill and Smith Designs in Boston a year ago. I started here as a lowly paid intern after graduating from Cornell University with a Master’s degree in Architecture and a minor in Interior Design and Business. This firm was my first choice for an internship after months of research.

  When I got the call that they would take me on, I packed my bags and found an apartment within a week. Dad had a few connections with people who owed him a favor or two, and he managed to get me an awesome apartment in Newton for a steal. It helps that Mom and Dad were willing to help me pay for the place at first because, if not, I never could have afforded it. It’s just a few blocks from the office.

  I started working with them only two weeks after my last final exam. I must have made an impression with one of the partners because Eloise offered me a full-time position after six months. Now, it doesn’t hurt that I was always the first one here in the morning and the last one to leave at night. I’ve put in my hours, and she knows I work my ass off.

  She’s become my mentor of sorts, always pushing me into design meetings and urging me to voice my opinions. She truly has helped me get so far in such a short amount of time. This is the first time she’s ever recommended me for a solo project, and now I’m turning her down.

  “Eloise. Please. I can’t take this one. I have… history there.”

  Why does it have to be that place?

  “Lana, I remember seeing designs for cabins in your portfolio when we took you on as an intern, and I’ve seen how much your designs have evolved in the short time you have been working with us. I know you can do this, and I know the owner will love the designs. Plus, if you already know the place, it’s perfect. You won’t have to spend as much time out there.” She looks back to her computer screen, and I know this conversation is over.

  I hang my head in defeat. I slink out of her office, closing the door behind me. My high heels tap on the faux wood tiles beneath my feet as I find my way back to my seat. I’m almost there when Miles Henderson, the office flirt, steps out from his cube, stopping me in my tracks. I really don’t have time to deal with him right now.

  I give a quiet sigh as my hazel eyes flutter closed for a moment. “What do you want, Miles? I don’t have the time right now.”

  He rests his outstretched arm on the top of the cubicle, his fingers grazing my bare arm. He’s not a bad looking guy. He’s about five-eleven, with thick blond hair and blue eyes. He’s not the most muscular man I’ve met, but he’s fit and works on keeping in shape. I’ve got to hand it to him though; the man knows how to dress. He always wears a stylish suit and pulls off the look with ease.

  He was here when I first started but was new himself, only starting a month before me. From the moment I saw him, I was floored. He shows up every day in a pair of perfectly fitted slacks and a button-down shirt—no tie. He keeps the top two buttons undone, giving his unsuspecting victim a peek at some chest hair.

  I say victim because, as soon as he finds out a girl’s checking him out, he’s on her like a dog in heat. Always trying to get his rocks off in some pretty thing.

  “I wondered if you’d want to get a drink with me later? There’s a place I found that has amazing wings—best in Boston.” He flashes me a smile, showcasing his perfectly straight and white teeth.

  Now, here’s the thing. Since I started working here, I have been too busy to date. And I’m not talking about finding a boyfriend. I mean, I’ve been too busy to even take the time to meet a guy for dinner, or hell—drinks. I put in long hours and crash hard when I get home. I don’t even remember what it’s like to have any time to myself, much less to have someone between my legs.

  It’s been almost a year and a half since I last slept with a man. The most recent mistake of my life was Joe DiMatto. Before you say anything, we didn’t date in high school. I told him off and spent my senior year back with my old group of friends. Bethany and I still talked, but it was a secret friendship. We’re still friends today, and we see each other from time to time. Usually, when I go home to visit Mom and Dad.

  Anyway, back to Joe. We met up again during the last year of my graduate program, and it was a drunken, stupid night. I never in a million years expected to see him in Boston, so I was surprised when he sidled up next to me and told me how much he’d missed me. One thing led to another, and I woke up in his bed the next morning.

  The walk of shame has never been more embarrassing than through an oversized apartment with his personal chef cooking breakfast. He took one look at me and grinned, knowing exactly what I was doing. Then he handed me a muffin on my way out.

  The only positive thing about my walk of shame is that it was the best damn muffin I’ve ever had.

  I turn Miles’s request over in my mind. He’s not a bad looking guy, and it would be nice to get laid sometime this year. Gotta go out to get laid, after all. It’s also the best wings in Boston. Only a fool would turn down good wings. I don’t have to sleep with him.

  I sigh. “Sure, Miles. I’d like that.”

  He smiles triumphantly. “I’ll come by your cube at five, and we can go. It’s not too far.” He rakes his eyes over my body and down to my four-inch heels. “You gonna be okay walking in those?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I have the urge to snap my fingers at him like he’s a dog. Bad dog! You don’t need to stare at me like I’m a hunk of meat. Instead, I turn on my heel and scatter as fast as my high heels will take me.

&nb
sp; We stumble through Miles’s front door, and he drops his keys on a table somewhere, never breaking our kiss. His hands roam freely over my body, and when he stops at my ass, he squeezes and pulls me flush with his erection—which isn’t much. I push the disappointment away and focus on his kiss. It’s not bad, a little aggressive, and we’ve clacked teeth a few times, but I’ve had worse.

  He squeezes my ass again, and my fuzzy head begins to clear. I put my hands up and push on his shoulders. “Wait, Miles.” He pulls back and looks me dead in the eye. “I can’t do this. It’s not right.”

  He huffs. “Just close your eyes. You want this as bad as I do.”

  Did he really just say that? His words are sobering. I step away from him, my anger rising more by the minute. “Excuse me?”

  He huffs again and rolls his eyes. “Just go with it. You clearly need to get laid. You’re so uptight at work. This will help loosen you up.” He goes back in for a kiss, and I get my hand between us just in time. He squishes his face into my hand, and I push him back, watching as he stumbles a few steps in his buzzed state.

  I’m out his front door and down the hall in seconds as he calls for me to come back. Yeah, like that’s going to happen. I call for a ride and wait patiently outside for the black sedan to pull up along the curb. My phone rings with a text as I close the door behind me and confirm my address with the driver.

  Miles: Your loss, ice queen.

  I don’t even give him the satisfaction of a response. I dial Bethany’s number, and after a few rings, it goes to voicemail.

  “Hey, Beth. Just checking in with you. Tried to put myself out there tonight, but he turned out to be an asshole with a small dick just like the rest of them. Hope you’re having a good night. We’ll talk soon.”

  The driver pulls up to my apartment, and I can’t get out of the pot-smelling car fast enough. I look up to my lonely, dark apartment before climbing the stairs to the second floor. I kick my shoes off when I get inside and sigh in relief. My aching toes can finally stretch after being jammed in the heels for so long. I strip out of my dress and pull on my comfortable shorts and a tank top.

  I crawl into bed with my laptop and open the web browser, searching for Black Stallion Ranch. The pictures showcased on the website bring back a sense of nostalgia. It looks exactly the same as it did ten years ago. Memories flood back to me like a tsunami—the horses, the field, Tristan.

  Tristan.

  I haven’t thought of him in years. When my family arrived back in Connecticut, I locked myself in my room for a week, barely eating. I didn’t want to feel, and I didn’t want to be bothered. Bethany was the first to get me to come out of my room. She threatened to pick me up and drop me in the pool just to make me do something. It took me months to get over him and the way he abandoned me. No wonder I was valedictorian my senior year. I was so depressed I threw myself into my studies.

  I followed his football games through the University of Wyoming’s website and tried to stay on top of what he was up to. Every time his team won, I’d internally send him a message of congratulations. And every time they lost, I’d pretend I was there to hug him. It was a silly fantasy, but it helped ease some of the pain I was feeling. I had left my heart in Wyoming.

  Shaking my head, I click through the site, gathering as much information as I can. There’s no mention of who the owners are, but there is a small blurb under about us stating it’s being operated under new management. I might not have to see him at all! This might not be so bad. Eloise hasn’t given me the paperwork yet, so I don’t know who she’s been speaking with.

  Then a thought hits me: Tristan poured his heart and soul into the ranch. It was his dream to run it one day. If it’s under new management, he lost the dream. My heart breaks a little at the thought. I pull up Facebook and search for his name under people. You wouldn’t believe how many people are named Tristan Ellis. I click on every picture that doesn’t show a person in hopes of finding him, but no profile seems to fit.

  I lie back and let my mind wander again. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to relive the happy memories and our ‘lessons’. Damn, he really was the most amazing lover. I’ve tried to heed his advice over the years and make sure the guy takes care of me, but most of them don’t care. The amount of times I had to get myself off after they fell asleep is almost embarrassing.

  Just one time couldn’t hurt. I reach my fingers under my shorts and panties, thinking of Tristan.

  Chapter 2

  Tristan

  Eloise is going to be here in a few hours. Her plane is supposed to land at ten, so I sent Holden to pick her up with the instructions to be on his best behavior. Holden purchased the ranch with me after my family suffered some financial hardships. He had a trust that was set up in his name, and at the ripe age of twenty-one, he cashed it in.

  I, of course, convinced him to buy into the ranch so we wouldn’t lose it. This place is his second home, and after a little begging on my part, he spent his money on the ranch. Mom and Dad still live in the house, but with Mom in recovery, she’s not able to do as much as she used to. I moved into my own place a few years ago, but I keep stuff here in case. The last few years around here have been really tough, and guests aren’t coming as frequently as I’d like to see. Expanding the ranch is going to change that, though.

  I’m sitting in my usual spot on the porch, looking over the guest list for this coming week. We have two families with two kids each and a couple on their honeymoon coming. I sigh, taking a sip of my coffee. Ten people total. We used to be full every summer. Now, we’re lucky to stay at half-capacity, and don’t even get me started on the winter months.

  Mom steps outside with her favorite purple floral mug of tea, her frail body falling gently into the seat beside me. She looks like she’s aged twenty years in the last five, even though she is only fifty-six. Chemo has taken a lot out of her, but she never complains. Not once. She always has a smile on her face, even on the bad days. She doesn’t want me to worry is what she always says.

  Too late for that one. I’ve been worried about her since the doctors first told us her diagnosis. I found a way to be there, alongside her and my dad for every appointment.

  “How ya feeling, Mom?”

  “Today’s a good day. I’d like to sit out in the field and watch the horses graze for a little.”

  I nod. “I’ll drive you out in a little while.”

  Wild horses have started living on the property again. A herd came in a few years ago when everything was going south and the steady income from guests was receding. Mom says they’re a gift from Grandpa to help keep everything going. We opened the field up to the public, so others are able to watch these animals. For a small fee, we will drive a group out to the area to watch and hang out. They can even bring some food for a picnic if they want.

  It has been a big hit with tourists who aren’t staying on the ranch to watch wild horses. We also opened a small gift shop in one of the unused cabins to sell Black Stallion Ranch branded stuff—t-shirts, mugs, magnets. We’ve been selling these items for a little over a year now. Kasey got into photography while she was in school in California and has taken pictures of the herd to sell as well. Those sell really well, especially through the website.

  Yup, the ranch has come a long way in a few years, and I hope, by updating the cabins and making them more modern, we can bring more people in. After doing some research, it seems Quill and Smith Designs is exactly the type of design firm we need working with us. There were several cheaper places in the running, but I don’t want to skimp on this. Sometimes, you have to pay a premium for quality.

  I say good morning to a few people carrying bags with merchandise and smile to myself. I finish the paperwork I need to do and help arrange rides for some of the couples staying with us. There’s never a dull moment here on the ranch.

  Jeff jogs into view. “Hey, Tristan, can you help me saddle some of the horses? The Carringtons want to take a ride, and I said I’d go
with them.”

  The Carringtons.

  One and the same, the Carringtons plan a visit with us every few years. Thank God it’s not consecutively. The first few years were rough. Russ would brag how he was still in contact with Lana and what she had been up to. It was torture listening to him, but it was like a drug—I couldn’t help myself.

  It made me feel worse when I couldn’t stop myself from asking questions. The smug look on his face was enough to make my stomach churn. I wanted, no, needed to know she was happy living her life without me in it. After what I did to her, I don’t deserve to know about her life. I know it. But Russ was my glimmer of hope in the storm, and I clung on tight.

  The worst was six years ago. That was the last year he came with his family. Lana went on a trip to England to visit his family, and I had to listen to Russ drone on about how wonderful it was to see her and how hot she looked. He got to spend two weeks with her, and according to him, she’s great. He didn’t elaborate on what he meant, and I pray he didn’t mean in bed. The thought of that prick’s dick close to her made me lose my mind. Holden had to talk me off that ledge.

  She was great in bed, though. I made damn sure of that. For the short time we were together, she was everything a man could want and more. I lost track of the number of nights I jerked off to the thought of Lana and the moans of pleasure she used to show me.

  Those lonely nights stopped my sophomore year in college when I started dating Savannah. I thought she was going to be the one, but in the end, it didn’t feel right. I was with her for three years before I decided to end things. She didn’t even see it coming. Not one of my finer speeches, but that’s besides the point.