Free Pass (Free Will Book 1) (16 page)

If you enjoyed
Free Pass
, check out Allie's Garden Falls series.

The first book,
Sean's Sweetheart
, will be available early Fall 2015.

Here's a sneak peek:

Sean's Sweetheart

A Garden Falls Novel

Chapter One

Tendrils of panic climbed Talia's chest, wrapped around her windpipe, and crushed the breath from her body. She choked out a plea, begging Caleb to slow down. She prayed they wouldn't end up plastered across one of the beautiful old murals on Church Street. The heavy pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of the wind rushing past the open windows. Her sweaty, shaking hands grabbed the soft leather seats, slipping when the car skidded around another corner on two wheels. Her heart lurched into her throat.

Oh shit.
They were going to die.

The acrid smell of burnt rubber rose from the squealing tires to invade the car. The engine roared with enthusiasm when Caleb's heavy foot demanded more speed. Talia braved a glance at him and flinched at the smoldering anger in his glare. His hyena-like bark of laughter filled the car.

"Talia, you're such a baby! This is the most fun I've had since we started dating!"

Slurred voices from the backseat began to chant, "A baby. A baby. Caleb's dating a baby!"

"Caleb, please stop. I'm about to hurl." Bile rose in her throat and she gagged. With shallow panting breaths, she struggled to keep her dinner down.

The car bumped along the warning stripe and swerved into the oncoming lane. Caleb yanked the wheel and straightened the car out. He turned toward her and his eyes narrowed. Spit flew from his mouth and carried the threat of retribution. He would kill her if she vomited in his brand new car, his twenty-first birthday present from his parents. Vomit is bad, but alcohol and drunk-driving, he was okay with. Asshole.

"Bitch, you're ruining my buzz. And if you mess up my car, I'll ruin your pretty face." Caleb tapped the brakes and shook his bony fist. Talia recoiled from his raised hand and covered her mouth. A tear trailed down her nose and Caleb sniggered at her. Probably left a black mascara streak all down her face, she thought with a sigh. The delighted twinkle in his eyes terrified her. She should have stayed home. A new book lay on her bed, waiting for her to bury her nose in it. She'd planned to spend the night lost in her own literary world, but she hadn't wanted Caleb to cause a scene. If she'd realized he planned to drink, she'd have chanced it.

"Hey dude, let's go to Garden. You can ditch Miss Stick-up-her-ass," one of his friends leaned forward to say. The stale stink of alcohol lingering on his breath made Talia gag again. Caleb glowered at her before he swung the sporty car through the historic district toward the club.

Rumor said Garden was the hottest club in town. The number of cars out front confirmed it. Circling the lot a few times, Caleb cut off another car and sped into an open spot. He and his buddies poured out of the car and stumbled toward the club without sparing Talia a single glance. She followed on quivering legs. While Caleb's attention was focused on the ass of a blonde in front of them in line, Talia tried to compose herself. Moisture welled up in her eyes, but she blinked it away. Caleb would not get the pleasure of her tears again. His behavior had devolved more toward abuse over the last few months. Tonight's actions confirmed she needed to end things.

Once inside the club, Caleb and his friends headed straight for the gleaming hardwood and joined the throng of scantily-dressed dancers. Talia weaved between bodies and made her way around the club. Lush green plants in rough-hewn planters gave the illusion of privacy along the edges of the room. Beautiful stained glass windows depicted garden scenes and looked almost biblical in content.

A long wooden bar, lighter in color than the walls, stretched along the right-hand side. Spying an empty stool at the end of the bar, Talia slid onto the leather seat. The bartender came her way. Her eyes went straight to his chest and she had to crane her neck up to see his face. Towering well over six feet, his shirt stretched taut across his muscular frame. Tattoos poked out from beneath the rolled sleeves of his plaid shirt, but his broad shoulders threw shadows across his arms and kept her from making out their design.

Holy scorching hotness.

"What can I get you tonight, sweetheart?" His deep voice carried well over the peppy din of the music. That low rumble shimmied down her spine, pebbling her skin with each delicious syllable. One look into those eyes and she lost all ability to form words. Her heart raced once more, but not from fear. She didn't find her voice until he winked at her and repeated his question.

"Oh, um…just a coke, please, I guess." His look of utter self-confidence made Talia want to slide under the bar and die. Her face burned with embarrassment and a choked little sound escaped her throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head and seemed to talk himself out of it and turned to get her drink.

Talia let out a shocked squeak when a lanky hand grasped her wrist and yanked her off the barstool. She gasped at the murderous expression on Caleb's face. When he spoke, she cringed.

"I expected you to come and dance with me, but I should've known you'd be too stupid. Come on."

She staggered with arms flailing, hitting some of the other customers in her efforts to stay upright. Her muttered apologies wasted breath; no one heard. It didn't take long for the crowd to focus on the drama in its midst. Caleb paused for mere seconds so that she could regain her balance before dragging her toward his friends. They weaved around club-goers. Caleb never released her. A stab of pain shot up her arm.

She yanked against his painful grip, but his hand tightened with her every effort. Instinct called for fight or flight, but she'd learned the hard way not to fight Caleb. She couldn't leave with him. But how could she get away?

He only loosened his grip when he walked straight into a wall of muscle.

* * * *

"I suggest you let the lady go now." Sean glared down at the boy in front of him. The pretty redhead struggled to free her wrist from the boy's grip.

"I'll take my girlfriend wherever I want!" The trembling chin contradicted the confidence in the little jerk's arrogant reply.

Conversations behind them stuttered to a stop and the noise level in the club dropped several octaves. An anxious yearning filled the air, hanging on held exhales. The crowd hoped for a fight.

"This is my club. People don't get hurt in my club. Get the hell out of here." Crossing his arms over his chest, Sean sent his fiercest scowl down at the younger man. "She stays. You go."

The shaggy-haired punk shoved the redhead away. He backed off, but didn't break eye contact. He'd had enough to drink to mouth off, but not enough to brave a physical altercation.

Thank God for small favors.
Customers taking swings meant the cops got called. There wasn't much Sean hated worse than a damn cop in his club. The girl teetered and wobbled after the abrupt release of her arm.

The scrawny turd shot her an evil glance and snapped, "We'll talk about this later when you don't have your new bodyguard beside you." The little asshat stomped out of the club, his friends following like they were on a tow trailer attached to his ass.

Sean turned his attention back to the girl. She cradled a bruising wrist against her chest and looked up at him. Her bright green eyes filled with tears, her shoulders started to shake, and he couldn't fucking breathe. Something in his chest twisted. His arms ached for her and it took every minuscule ounce of self-control he had to keep his hands to himself, to not sweep her into his arms, carry her to the back, and make her his.

"Aww hell, don't cry. Come on." Laying a hand on her shoulder, he steered her toward the back of his club. The crowd parted easily to allow them passage. Unlocking the door, he pushed her into his office and toward the couch. "You want me to call you a cab? Or someone to pick you up?" he asked, careful to keep his voice calm. He didn't want to spook her further.

Sobs racked her thin shoulders and he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled her into his arms and whispered reassurances. His hand came up to rub her hair and he brushed his lips across the top of her head. Those sweet little arms of hers slipped around his waist and he strangled back a moan. Her tears slowed, but she still struggled to regain her composure. Sean fought down the rush of desire when she shifted closer and her soft curves pressed into his chest. He tightened his arms around her and inhaled the clean scent of her shampoo. She affected him more than he wanted to admit. More than she should have.
It's been too long.

When she'd sat down at his bar and turned such a pretty shade of pink, he thought he might take her home tonight. Forget his voluntary vow of celibacy for the evening. He'd dusted off his game and had been ready to get his flirt on when that little fucker dragged her off the stool. That little shit was lucky as fuck he left the club with all his parts attached.

"If I call my parents, they'll flip. I don't have money for a cab." She sniffed. Her cheek rested against his shoulder.
Parents? Shit.

Lust thoroughly squashed, Sean shoved a tissue into her hand. "I can take you home if you want. Just give me a few minutes to get some things settled out front." When she nodded, he continued, "Let me ask you something. What's a pretty girl like you doing with a bozo like him anyway?"

"I can't thank you enough for all your help tonight. I... I know now that I should've broken things off with Caleb a while ago. But I... I just didn't know how to without making him angry."

"You're afraid of him." He phrased it as a statement, not a question. And it didn't surprise him a bit when she only nodded. He'd seen a lot of abused women in his time and this one's behavior screamed abused. She looked up at him with her sad, vulnerable eyes and Sean inhaled a ragged breath. He wanted to kiss her. To protect her from jerks like that Caleb.

He shook his head trying to shake some sense into his stupid self. She had things rough enough without a guy like him lusting after her. And Lord knows, a teenage girlfriend didn't make his to-do list. Or his want list. He'd worked too hard to get Garden off the ground, to get his shit together. He wouldn't throw years of work out the door for a teary-eyed redhead.

Just his luck that the first woman he'd found seriously attractive in a while turned out to be entirely too young.

* * * *

With one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the bartender surrounded her with his warmth. An inch separated their thighs. The light and spicy scent of his aftershave tickled her nose and she liked it. The very masculine scent suited him well. Caleb smelled like he bathed in cologne, but this man smelled amazing. Mouth-watering. He wore enough aftershave for her to get a good whiff up close, but not enough to overpower. Perfect. Staring up at him, she watched those blue eyes darken with an emotion she couldn't name. She licked her lips and stared up at him in anticipation. She leaned closer, pleading silently for him to kiss her.

Disappointment dashed over her when he stood and said, "I'll be right back."

A longing she didn't quite understand ached deep within her. She didn't even know him. He was so not her normal type. It didn't make a lick of sense. But damn, his lips on hers sounded good. It must be stress. A reaction to how he'd protected her. Or maybe it was the way he filled out that shirt.
Lord, those shoulders.
Who knew flannel could be such a turn on?

True to his word, the big man came back a few minutes later. With his hand on the small of her back as a guide, he directed her out the back door to the service alley. He led her over to a big black Harley and held a helmet out to her.

"Uh..." A motorcycle? Why couldn't he have a sports car or a truck? Of course a tattooed bartender would drive a motorcycle.

The smug look on his face made her want to prove his assumptions wrong. Prove to him she wasn't a goody-goody, scared shitless to climb on top of a motor with wheels and fly down the road under someone else's control.

"It's this or you call someone."

Screw that.

She snatched the helmet from his hand. Talia gave him the address and fiddled with the strap, trying to figure out how to adjust it. His hands came up to tighten it for her and their fingers brushed. She sucked in a deep breath at his touch. His low chuckle took that spark of anger and kindled it into a blaze of desire. With the street lamps behind him, she couldn't read his expression. His hand closed over hers for a brief second before he jerked it away. He straddled the bike and pulled his own helmet on.

She climbed on behind him and he started the motor. Talia jumped at the sudden roar of the engine and clung tight to his broad back. His chest shook with laughter beneath her hands. Talia relaxed a bit as the bike moved and they didn't crash. She slid her arms around his waist and started to enjoy the ride, to enjoy the feel of holding a man.

She'd never been on a motorcycle before. Had never wrapped her arms around a complete stranger like this, either. She didn't know his name, but she knew the strength in his muscles and the rhythm of his breathing. When she hugged him tighter, her fingers slipped through the button placket on his shirt. Instead of removing her hand, she combed through the tangle of hair on his chest, surprising herself with her boldness. His hand dropped back to squeeze hers for a moment, but he didn't pull her hand away.