After eight years in prison, twenty-four year old Jordan Kane is the man everyone loves to hate.
Forced to return to his hometown while on parole, Jordan soon learns that this small town hasn’t changed since he was carted off to juvie all those years ago. He is the local pariah, shunned by everyone, including his own parents. But their hatred of him doesn’t even come close to the loathing he feels every time he looks in the mirror.
Working odd jobs for the preacher lady, Jordan bides his time before he can leave this backwards town. But can distance erase the memories that haunt him? Trapped in the prison of his own mind Jordan wonders if the pain of living will ever subside?
Torrey Delaney is new in town and certainly doesn’t behave in a way the locals believe a preacher’s daughter should. Her reputation for casual hook-ups and meaningless sex is the talk of the town. Add that to her budding friendship with the hardened ex-con handyman, and the good Reverend is less than thrilled with her estranged daughter’s path.
As friendship forms, is it possible for two damaged people who are afraid to love take their relationship to the next level? Can Torrey live with Jordan’s demons, and can Jordan break through Torrey’s walls? With the disapproval of a small town weighing heavily on them, will they find their place in the world? Can they struggle against the odds, or will their world be viciously shattered?
Is love a life sentence?
Due to scenes of a sexual nature, not recommended for under 18.
Get ready…Jordan’s love note is beyond amazing!
Keep reading to see the full Love Note!
Firecracker,
Today was Valentine’s Day. I know. I’m sorry. Sorry that I didn’t buy you a card or give you red roses. I also know that you told me you didn’t want those things or dinner in a restaurant covered with paper hearts. You didn’t want any of that because you said it was rip off and commercial and invented to separate people from their hard-earned money.
So I didn’t. And then I saw the disappointment in your eyes when you woke up this morning. I never want to see that look in your eyes again. I never want to disappoint you.
I’m an ex-con working a blue-collar job for 18 bucks an hour. But in my head, I imagine that I’m wearing a fine Italian suit like you saw in that magazine last week, and you’d be wearing something fancy, something real expensive. And I’d try to remember to compliment you on your dress, but I wouldn’t have a clue what you were wearing because when I look at you, I can’t see past the incredible woman with a heart as big as Texas: I can only see my beautiful wife.
If I could, I’d take you somewhere real upscale. There’d be a starched white cloth on the table, napkins folded into fancy shapes, and candles all around us. I’d order champagne and the best food on the menu. We’d eat and laugh and talk, and I’d take you dancing till dawn. Then I’d lay you down on soft sheets and love you till the sun was high in the sky.
But I wanted you to know that I don’t need a special day to tell me to love you more, one day in a year when I treat you good and tell you how much I love you and appreciate you. Because every day, you are my world, my reason for getting up in the morning. I open my eyes and see your beautiful face, your hair tangled around you, all wild and sexy. And your eyes open and you look at me with such trust, so much love, and my heart feels like it could explode from how big my love is for you.
All those days I spent in juvie, all those days in prison, my life was gray, meaningless, hopeless. My punishment was to carry on living. Meeting you was the sun blazing down on my hard Texas heart, my broken bitter heart. I didn’t believe life was worth living ’til I met you. I’m so, so happy I was wrong. You brought me back to life.
And now every day is special. You are the sun that lights my path.
I love you more than…
My letter was interrupted by Torrey herself, large as life and twice as gorgeous.
“Whatcha doing, stud?”
“Nothin’,” I said, squinting up as the sun cast a halo around her.
“Well, it looks a lot like something,” she grinned, arching one eyebrow. “And I just checked in the kitchen and it looks like someone is cooking someone else a roast dinner with all the trimmings.”
“Someone sure might be,” I grinned back.
“Hmm, interesting. And it looks a lot like someone has bought someone else so much of that French candy that someone likes, it’s enough to open a sweet shop.”
“You don’t say?”
“And I might just happened to have noticed about a billion sunflowers in vases all over the kitchen.”
“Well, ain’t that amazin’! Specially as sunflowers always remind me of you,” I smiled. “I guess some other fella must a’ thought you’d like ‘em, too.”
“It’s possible, but why would I be interested in any other man when my husband is so freakin’ gorgeous, loves me from here to Sunday every day of the week, and makes me scream when he’s loving me in our bed?”
“When you put it like that, I have no idea.”
“And now I’m wondering why you’re sitting in the back yard with one of my old student notebooks and a broken bit of pencil. It might make a suspicious woman think that you were writing a love letter.”
“Is that a fact?”
“That’s a fact. And I want to read it.”
“Maybe it’s not for you,” I teased.
“Jordan Kane! If that letter isn’t for me, you just breathed your last breath, buddy.
“Throttle back, firecracker,” I grinned at her, standing up and holding the letter just out of reach.
I was 6’ 2” and her tiny five foot nothing frame couldn’t reach my outstretched arm.
“Jordan! Give me my damn letter before I climb you like a tree!”
“Is that a threat? ‘Cause it’s soundin’ pretty good so far, sweetheart.”
“You’re really not going to give me that letter?” she asked, her head cocked on one side, the corner of her mouth turning up in a sly smile.
“Nope,” I said, wondering what her sneaky mind would come up with.
She placed her hand over my zipper and sweat broke out on my forehead.
“I’d really like to read my letter,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down my crotch, stoking the heat that swept through my body like wildfire. “After all, you were writing it for me.”
“It’s not finished,” I said stubbornly as my knees began to shake.
I closed my eyes and groaned as she tugged open my belt and slid her hand into my jeans, tugging them down.
“Torrey!” I grit out, my voice getting hoarse.
And then when I started to wrap my hands around her, the little witch grabbed the letter and danced away. I tried to follow but hobbled by my jeans, I tripped over and ended up face down in the dirt.
“Damn, woman! You’re mean!” I spluttered, coughing and wheezing as the dry dirt billowed around me.
“Quiet! I’m reading my Valentine letter!”
She held out her hand, stopping me from coming closer, even though I was still laying in the dirt and too dazed to move.
I sat up slowly, watching her face as she read all the way through, every emotion flashing across her expressive face. A smile played on her beautiful lips. Until she got to the end.
“You love me more than what, Jordan?” Love was stark and raw in her eyes as she gazed up at me. “What do you love me more than?”
She crawled into my lap and I held her in my arms, my mouth hovering above hers.
“I love you more than my own life, darlin’.”
And then I kissed my beautiful wife and prayed our love would follow us through the years.
She was my sunshine, and she’d taught me to hope.
THE END
I lived in London for over 10 years and have a love affair with New York. It’s only since I have moved to the countryside, that the words have really begun to flow.
I live in a small village by the ocean and walk my little dog, Pip, every day. It’s on those beachside walks that I have all my best ideas.
Writing has become a way of life – and one that I love to share.
Oh, my. Just beautiful. How I love that book and Jordan and Torrey’s love.