It began with Fallen Too Far in the fall of 2012. The Rosemary Beach characters were introduced into the world. With them the band members of Slacker Demon. Rush Finlay’s dad, Dean, was the drummer of the band.
It’s finally time for Dean to get his story.
Coming September 30, 2022
Here’s a sneak peek…
Chapter 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.
Chapter 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-year-old single females that I knew. For example, she got regular manicures, went shopping for clothing, and went on dates.
“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.
“Okay, I’ll go tomorrow night, but don’t push it. Hot girl summer sounds exhausting and annoying. I like my life, Clara. I don’t need a man. I have Cam.”
Clara sighed dramatically. “Cam is your son. And you’re the best mom I know, but, Brielle, you have got to get a life. Cam is growing up. He’s going to start wanting to do things without you. When that happens, you’re gonna fall apart because you forgot how to be you. Find yourself. You are more than Cam’s mom.”
I opened my mouth to argue that I was aware of that when a loud crash from the hallway outside our apartment got my attention. Standing back up, I walked to the door, not hearing anything Clara was saying. There were voices out there and more banging around.
I debated on the safety of opening the door when a man yelled out, “Not this floor! We are supposed to start at the top!”
My hand wrapped around the doorknob, and I opened the door slowly, peeking out into the rowdy hallway. My neighbors were not loud people. Mrs. Jo lived to the right of us, and she’d be celebrating her seventy-eighth birthday in ten days. I was going to make her a cake, like I always did. Damar and Jim lived across the hallway from me. They worked long hours and were rarely home. I probably wouldn’t see them until Mrs. Jo’s birthday.
Brown eyes with thick, long lashes—which should have made his eyes appear feminine, but somehow did not—locked with mine, and I froze. The door was only halfway open, and Clara’s voice in my ear, calling my name, reminded me she was there.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. There was noise outside in the hallway. Can I call you back?” I replied.
“Noise? What kind of noise? Are you okay? Do I need to call the police?” she asked, her voice growing more panicked by the second.
“No. It’s fine. Looks like maintenance or something. I’ll call you back,” I repeated, then ended the call before she could ask more questions.
My curiosity was stronger than my appreciation for a man with great lashes, I realized, as I moved my gaze from his and took in the rest of the situation. A redheaded man with a matching beard stood, holding a ladder with a scowl on his face.
“Why does it matter which floor we start on? This damn ladder is a bitch to carry up the stairs,” the red-haired man said.
“It matters to the man writing our paycheck. I’ll carry the ladder. But these cans of paint aren’t much lighter,” Brown Eyes replied.
“At least they aren’t fucking bulky,” the man said, dropping the ladder to the ground with a sigh of relief.
“The crew putting down the hardwood flooring and marble tiles is up there now. We should have been there first. Come on,” Brown Eyes said, his voice laced with frustration. He glanced back at me. “Sorry if we disturbed you.”
“I didn’t realize there were updates being done to the building,” I said, thinking that the owner should have sent out a memo to the residents. And who the heck was getting marble tiled flooring?
“Just the penthouse floor at the moment. Once it is finished, the entry, elevators, and outdoor structure will be updated,” he told me.
“Wow,” I muttered, wondering what had brought this on.
Mr. Halston was almost eighty years old. He owned this apartment building along with four others in town, a few service stations, a grocery store or two, and the post office building. He never did updates, but this was a newer building and in the nicest part of town. I had chosen it so that Cam could attend the schools in this area. They were the best I could offer him.
“New owner is turning this building into something real nice. Fancy and shit,” the red-haired guy informed me.
“New owner?” I asked, confused. How did I not know the building had a new owner?
“Yeah, Halston sold it. Fucking shocker. That old man holds on to everything,” the guy added.
The door next to mine opened, and Mrs. Jo stepped out into the hallway, frowning. “What’s all the commotion out here? I can’t hear my show on the telly-vision,” she barked out, then looked over at me. “Brielle, honey, how are you? Did Cam get off to camp okay? I was gonna make you a cherry delight pie to cheer you up, but I forgot to go to the store today.”
Both men started moving again toward the staircase. I glanced at them briefly, wondering who had bought the place and deciding I would Google it when I went back inside my apartment.
“Looks like the top floor is getting a revamp,” I told her. “And I am fine. No need to worry about the pie. Without Cam here to help me eat it, I’d gain ten pounds,” I told her with a smile.
She shook her head and pointed her finger at me. “You wouldn’t do such a thing. You’re too tiny as it is. Men like their women to have some meat on their bones. At least, they did in my day. Curves. We all wanted curves and chocolate. Life was good back then,” she mused, then turned and walked back into her apartment and closed the door.
I had no doubt, tomorrow, I’d have a pie waiting on me when I got home from work.
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