Shuttered Affections (Cornerstone #1)

BOOK: Shuttered Affections (Cornerstone #1)
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Synopsis

After escaping to a college town, Juliana Petersen was
determined to put her troubled past behind her and make the most of life.
 
She was satisfied with her current
situation, or so she thought.
 
It
wasn’t until the day her new photography professor stole her parking spot that
she realized there was such thing as lust at first sight. Now, she must
struggle with the decision to break the rules and fall in love, or step back
and let the chance of a lifetime pass her by—all while her past relationships
come back to haunt her.

How many men will it take to break Julia’s hold on reality?

 
 

Shuttered Affections, The First
Cornerstone Novel
Copyright © 2013 Rene Folsom

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the
prior written permission from Indie Style Press or Rene Folsom, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other
noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

Editing Services Provided by Cynthia Shepp
www.CynthiaShepp.com

Cover Created by Phycel Designs
www.Phycel.com

This is an Indie Style Press Publication
www.IndieStylePress.com

 
 

For Jim.
My halo isn’t broken… yet.

Chapter 1

“First impressions are highly overrated.”

Just my luck. I always
seem to have trouble finding a parking spot in the mornings.

Attempting to calm myself, I gripped the steering wheel
tight, let my head fall back onto my headrest, and took a few deep breaths.

My early morning photography class was one of my favorites
and I’d be damned if I let parking issues make me late. It would have made
sense for the college to have more ample parking on this side of campus, but I
guess the administrators never ventured far enough from their offices to notice
our daily issues.

Even though the parking lot was rather large, it still
seemed impossible to find a spot first thing in the morning. So, I continued to
circle around the lot in search of anyone who would be pulling out soon.

Searching for a space on the backside of campus was
imperative since all my classes were around the Fine Arts department and I kept
most of my art equipment and tools in my car.

The large, multi-story buildings were only about a quarter
mile away from a thick patch of pine trees, which separated the school from the
interstate. Although my spare time was limited, I loved any moment I could
spend walking on the trails behind the school.

Since I was stuck playing ring-around-the-rosie with other
cars in the parking lot, I decided to plug my phone into the FM transmitter and
listen to Mandy Brooke. Her voice always cheered me up and made me smile.
Singing along with her was challenging and fun.

As I was enjoying the sounds of the silky voice and guitar
strums reverberating from my speakers, I glanced in the mirror to check my face
and hair. I wasn’t the type to lavish my appearance in layers of makeup, but I
did try to keep a clean, neat look to the little bit I applied.

Silky, blonde curls framed my face and tickled my cheeks. The
Florida sun beamed through my open sunroof, making my curls glisten with golden
specks. Green eyes stared back at me in the mirror and I couldn’t help but
smile at the fact I had inherited my grandmother’s hair and eyes. She was so
beautiful in every way and I missed her dearly.

Plumping my curls a bit, I closed the mirror and forced
myself to concentrate on finding a dang parking spot. I started strumming my
fingers on the steering wheel, not in an attempt to keep in time with the
music, but because I was getting anxious as I continued circling the rows of
parked cars.

The sun caused glares to shine brightly off the mirrors and
chrome of the stationary vehicles as other cars droned around in circles with
me through the half-mile long string of parking lots. Some of the lots were
only a few rows deep, while others spanned at least a dozen rows and began to
wrap around the south side of the building.

I should’ve been thankful. From what I heard, getting a spot
on the University campus downtown was even more challenging.

I continued to vibrate with impatience because my class was
going to start in five minutes. A new surge of urgency overwhelmed me at the
realization of what time it was.

As soon as I began wringing the steering wheel tight with
nerves, I noticed a student bounding through the parking lot toward her car. Her
short, black hair was a mess of straight strands flowing behind her as she ran
to an old, beat-up VW Beatle with large tires covered in mud.

“Great! Perfect timing!” I cheered to myself as I
fist-bumped the cloth roof inside my car.

My heart started to race and I slowly pulled forward toward
where the girl was headed. I put my blinker on and sighed in relief when I saw the
Bug’s weak reverse lights glow to life.
Yesss!

The spot couldn’t have been better either, because it was
only two rows away from the building and smack in between my first and last
classes of the day. I was thankful I came upon it just in the nick of time.

With the calm collectiveness in knowing I wouldn’t be late
for class, my demeanor cheered and I began singing louder along with the music,
swaying my head back and forth and patting on my steering wheel to keep rhythm.

As the girl’s Bug pulled away, a sleek, blue Miata zipped
into the spot I was patiently waiting for and I all but jumped out of my seat
in surprise. I probably would have if it weren’t for the damn seatbelt keeping
me in place. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe my eyes. That person just stole
the spot I was about to turn into!

My heart leapt into my throat and my cheeks burned with
anger.

“What? That was my spot! UGH!”

I could feel the adrenaline start to radiate inside of me
like the fireworks grand finale on the Fourth of July. If I were stronger, I
guarantee the steering wheel would have been ripped completely clean from my
dash with the amount of fury being pumped through my veins by the pounding
muscle in my chest.

With pure rage and adrenaline coursing through my body, I
surged forward and rolled down my window just as a breathtakingly handsome male
climbed out of his teeny, beautiful car.

Oh, God. Of course he had to be gorgeous. That was just my
luck. Well, regardless of his devastatingly good looks and scrumptious body, I
wasn’t going to allow him to get away with making me late.

Rich, smug bastard
probably lives off Daddy’s money and has no sense of courtesy and responsibility.

“Hey, what the hell? You just took the spot I was waiting
for!” I hollered with my head and torso all but hanging out of my car window,
gesturing to his piece of blue tinfoil that was now parked in the spot I lusted
after. It seemed he almost thought about ignoring me as he began a slow amble
toward the school buildings in the opposite direction.

He didn’t say anything in response to my angry tirade. Instead,
he simply turned toward me and, while continuing to jog backwards, shrugged
with a sympathetic smile on his infuriatingly handsome face before turning back
around quickly to face the direction he was headed.

“What an arrogant piece of shit!” I said, hopefully loud
enough so he could hear me. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge my outrage.

I noticed he had a nice, professional camera draped around
his neck and right arm, dangling along his lean hip and stomach.

I wondered who he was because I thought I knew all the
photo-nerds on campus. It actually made me even angrier to know I had something
in common with this snatch-and-park god.

The chirping of his car alarm being armed made me flinch and
look over in his direction. He was standing on the sidewalk between two of the
buildings, looking at me. Shoving his car keys into his pocket and running his
fingers through his hair, he stood and watched me for just a few moments before
finally turning and walking behind a large building, out of sight.

I banged my fists on my steering wheel with a loud thud and
several curses emanating from my mouth.

“Damn, that hurt.” I winced and rubbed my wrists as they
protested my angry fit.

I was beyond pissed. Red blurred my vision. Thoughts of
slashing those pretty little tires of his flashed through my mind.

I huffed and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat. The last
thing I needed was to sweat before class because I couldn’t calm my boiling
rage at the fact assholes were allowed to roam the earth with normal human
beings.

I continued to circle the lot and thankfully found a spot
about ten minutes later. Unfortunately, this spot was only two rows away from
the polished blue toy car that, just by looking at it, made my mouth mutter
angry little curses under my breath.

He’ll be lucky if a
rock doesn’t randomly make its way through his shiny little window.

“Just great,” I muttered as I waited for the other car to
back out, realizing I was now more than five minutes late for my photography
class.

I darted between the white lines quickly so some other
inconsiderate prick wouldn’t snatch this spot from me as well. There weren’t
many people around because most of them were likely in class by now.

With fumbling fingers, I quickly closed the sunroof and
gathered my backpack, camera bag, and portfolio folders before slamming my car
door and hauling ass. Just when I had a chance to turn and run, I noticed I
forgot to roll my window back up in my haste.

“Figures.” I rolled my eyes and used my keyless entry to
unlock the door.

Scrambling to turn the ignition just enough to power the
car, I dropped my photography portfolios, spilling some negatives and prints
all over the dirty asphalt. I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed as I saw my
photos scrape along the rough parking lot surface. Even a few of my negatives
managed to slide out of the protective plastic sleeves and kiss the pebbled
ground.

“Aaargh! Perfect. Just f-ing perfect.” Boy, was this day
turning out to be smashing. My stomach turned as I realized how many hours of
work I probably just ruined by being a fumbling idiot.

I sat there and tried to reign in my breathing, sucking much
needed air into my oxygen-starved lungs. After the window took forever to roll
up completely, I carefully stepped over the clutter on the ground and slammed
my car door in a huff. Bending to pick up my mess, my hair fell around my face
in a curtain full of curls and I wished I had remembered to bring a hair tie
with me. With all this agitation first thing in the morning, my hair was
beginning to stick to my neck and cheeks in a sweaty, sticky disarray of
tresses.

Reaching out for the scattered remnants of my portfolio, a
warm hand came into my vision and brushed my fingers.

“Here. Let me help.” His voice was deep and… did I detect a
bit of humor in his tone? Even though his attempt to help was commendable, I
didn’t need to be laughed at right now.

My eyes trailed up the strong, flexing muscles of his tan
forearm, up to his bicep, which stretched and undulated under a tight, green
Abercrombie t-shirt. Oh, damn, those shirts were always so soft and touchable. I
bit my lip at the thoughts of feeling his hard muscles beneath the soft shirt.

Attempting to get a better view, I brushed my hair out of my
face with the back of my hand and met with his big, piercing brown eyes. A
strong brow hovered over his dark eyes, making him look exotic and dangerous. He
was grinning at me with a perfect set of teeth and a chuckle sounded from his
mouth like this entire morning was some sort of personal joke of his.

Even though he looked down at the disarray of prints he was
helping me gather, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as I quickly covered
my cleavage with a few prints already in my hand. I clutched the photos to
myself like a barrier—a sudden embarrassed feeling washing over me.

It wasn’t like I was showing him much, but these skimpy, spaghetti-strap
tank tops didn’t exactly keep my big breasts under cover, especially when bent
over and exposed like a harlot in front of a stranger. And I was sure my ass
was probably spilling out of the back of my low-rise jeans, causing my cheeks
to play peek-a-boo with the rest of the world.

Damn, I was a mess.

I wasn’t necessarily heavy, but I did have some extra
cushion, which caused me to be a little cautious of what I wore and how I wore
it. I had a small hoodie on, but because of the warm weather, it was casually
unzipped and therefore not protecting me much.

Suddenly realizing I hadn’t responded to his offer to help,
I quickly recovered and forced my voice to function.

“Thank you. This morning has been nothing short of disastrous
and I’m late for class as it is. I really appreciate your help.” I tried to
sound polite, even though I was still smoldering from my earlier encounter with
the parking-spot thief.

“It’s my pleasure. I’m sorry your morning isn’t going well. Can
I walk you to class?” He still had that smirk on his face, but I started to
think it wasn’t about my absurd spillage of photographs. Maybe it was his
attempt at flirting. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to find out—which
was a shame, really, because he was cute.

He seemed sweet, but I also noticed a hint of determination
in his face, like he was expecting something from me. Wait, did he just ask me
a question? I must have been completely losing it because I couldn’t even
remember what he asked.

I tried to help, but my mind felt lost as I watched him
gather my photographs with a gentle touch, which was odd because he looked to
be anything but tender. He didn’t look dangerous, but his expression carried a
fierce undertone that made me cautious.

As he fingered the last few prints, we both stood. Wow, he
was tall. Tall and very lean.

“My name is Vic.” He gripped a handful of my photographs and
I smiled as he gestured to set the stack he was holding on top of the piles in
my arms.

“Thanks, Vic. I’m Julia,” I introduced myself as I awkwardly
held my hand out to shake his, which was stupid because both my arms were full of
stuff.

He gave me a nice smile that crinkled the skin around his
eyes. “Well, Julia. May I walk with you?”

“Oh, of course. I’m late, so I will need to practically run,
but you’re more than welcome to join me…” I began to smile slightly as I
continued. “… if you can keep up.” Now I was sporting a full-on cheesy smile as
I quickly turned and began to speed-walk toward the towering, white buildings.

I meant it as a fun challenge, but I was sure I probably
came across as a complete bitch.

I never meant to, but I’ve been told a few times that my
first impressions aren’t good and most people didn’t like me when they first met
me. It wasn’t something I tended to dwell on. First impressions were highly
overrated.

He trailed behind me and I thought I heard him chuckle at my
joke. Or, maybe he was laughing at my ridiculous display back in the parking
lot.

“So, what class are you late for?” he asked as he jogged a
few steps to catch up to me.

BOOK: Shuttered Affections (Cornerstone #1)
11.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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