Truth in Watercolors
Copyright © 2015 by Kimberly Rose
Formatting and interior design by JT Formatting
ISBN: 978-0-9909103-2-9
All rights reserved.
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 the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
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Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
He was looking a little soft. The edges of his body appeared bent in the shadows, but his skin had turned clammy under the glow of the streetlight. Even with the sheen of nervous sweat covering his face, his features appeared matte.
“Hello, boyfriend.” My cool voice opposed the heat within me.
“Hey, baby,” Tanner said equally as smooth, which opposed his sticky and slimy insides. The girl I’d just witnessed him choking with his tongue stood aloof.
“Thought you were at your parents’ house?” I asked tapping my Dirty Laundry booty on the sidewalk outside of a stranger’s house. A stranger who coincidentally lived a block from my house. Idiot.
“Yeah, yeah, I was. I came home early though to—”
“Cheat on me.” I finished his sentence for him.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he said gesturing toward the girl at his left, who was twirling a tendril of her hair around her acrylic fingertip.
“So your tongue wasn’t just down another girl’s throat? You do know I live down the street?” I pointed in the direction of my parents’ house.
“Obviously,” he said flipping his head to toss his limp hair from his eyes, “I’m not stupid.”
“Obviously,” I said fixing my eyes on acrylic girl. I was just about to go off on a tirade about how tacky it was to cheat on me on Thanksgiving. Also, about how ridiculous it was for him to lie to me about where he was, and then show up on the front lawn of a house I drive past every day. Except, the rumble of an unmistakable engine stopped my words and easily stole my attention from Tanner.
He swung his car door closed from where he’d parked behind my car a few feet away and sauntered up the sidewalk. The extended stride from his long denim legs added a permanent swagger to his gait. “Everything okay, Capri?”
Weston Monroe—the object of my every pre-teen desire, and perhaps a few current desires, though I’d never outwardly admit it. I watched as he unzipped the black canvas jacket he wore and revealed the angles of his chest and stomach molded under his brownish Henley.
He tossed the jacket at me. “Put that on C, it’s cold.” I rolled my eyes and slipped my arms into the jacket. I reached for the zipper and yanked it up snagging my dress into the teeth along the way. Despite my now ruined dress.I relished in the warmth of his woodsy and clean scent around me.
I heard a sigh and looked at the girl next to Tanner. Her beady eyes traced Wes’ body from head to toe. I huffed under my breath. Weston Monroe, the object of every woman’s desire.
“I’m over this,” I said with a wave of my hand and turned on my pointed heel toward my car. Tanner cheating on me, Wes, just…Wes, I’d had enough.
“Capri,” Wes said reaching out a hand for me. He caught my elbow in his palm. “You want me to handle things here?” he asked with concern swimming in his blue eyes. The warmth caught me off guard, and I found myself perplexed by their glow.
“C?” Wes’ voiced whispered, but I couldn’t break my stare. I felt the roughness of his finger graze across my cheek, and my eyes fluttered closed relishing the familiarity of his touch. It was an artist’s touch, one I knew well. It was gentle, yet purposeful. It was spontaneous, yet intentional.
“Capri, what should I do here?” he asked gruffly. I opened my eyes and looked into his. I couldn’t help but feel they were asking for direction on more than what to do about Tanner. His eyes sought an answer for a question I wasn’t prepared for. I slowly shook my head and took a soft step, backing out of his touch.
“It’s okay, Wes,” I said and turned around to keep walking. It wasn’t okay, though. Nothing about catching your mediocre boyfriend cheating on you was okay, and there was really nothing okay with the way my heart beat into my spine, pulling me back toward Wes.
I felt the rumble of Wes’ lowered voice tangle around me through the breeze as he spoke to Tanner. I knew he’d say something to him whether I’d approved it or not. A smile tugged at my lips.
“Haven’t we hooked up before?” a singsong voice interrupted my escape as I’d reached my car. I peered over my shoulder.
“Uh, I dunno,” Wes’ mumble rode the wave of another breeze to me. I didn’t wait for her reply and climbed into the car, gathering my heart back into my chest.
Weston Monroe, resident man whore and my brother’s best friend.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Correction.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
My manly pound on August and Kensie’s door alerted them to the stallion awaiting them. Me.