Unraveled (Love in Salem, book 2)
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Authors: Emma Delaney
Unraveled
Love in Salem series, book 2
by
Emma Delaney
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Unraveled
Copyright © 2013
Emma Delaney
Cover photo by: Copyright © Jason Stitt
Electronic Publication Date: 04/07/2013
All rights reserved
. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the author.
~ Emma Delaney
A note from the Author
There are situations in this book that discuss legal issues with child custody and neglect. Nothing written in this book can be used as a reference or advice in any legal matter. I do not work in the field of law, nor do I have a degree in family law. If you have concerns about child custody, abuse or neglect I beseech you to consult with the appropriate authorities.
Prologue
Slamming down his third shot of Tequila, Aidan Aiello blew out a frustrated breath and ran his finger through his hair. How did he manage to end up here
again
? Here he was, heartbroken, drinking while his friends looked at him as though he was a fool. A fool that should have known his relationship was hopeless.
He was so tired of women walking all over him and then leaving him high and dry. It was like they use him in order to achieve whatever the hell it was they are after. Then, once they have it in their grasp, he was tossed aside like garbage. Isn’t he worthy of respect and commitment?
The Den of Iniquity, their favorite club to play was packed from wall to wall with people. Strobe lights were flashing yellow, green, blue, and red. Their rays were reflecting off of glassware, glitter, and sequins.
The crowd was massive, shouts and laughter could be heard over a local band playing their rendition of
Crazy Bitch
by Buckcherry. The irony of the song was not lost on Aidan.
After knocking back his fourth shot of Tequila he shook his head and wondered why, for all his supposed good qualities, he found himself heartbroken again. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a forever kind of guy.
He glanced over at his very bored looking, extremely happily married friend, Wyatt Brown. He was no doubt wondering why he had to be here with a sniveling broken man instead of at home fucking his beautiful wife.
Great, now he was a burden to his friends also. A complete social failure.
Fisting his beer, he drained half the bottle in one drink. Yeah, this was going to be a bad one. He knew it, but couldn’t make himself stop either. Already he could feel the sensory loss. He had to hold onto the table top in order to ground himself and not be carried away by the spinning room.
Aidan looked up at both visages of Clint as he yelled over the harsh cacophony of the club.
Well, make that three visages
. Aidan squinted and decided to focus on the middle image as Clint told him yet again to stop sulking over Brittney.
“There are literally hundreds of women hovering around us at the moment. Find a soft willing body, one with lots of curves and jiggle just like you like ‘
em, and fuck that bitch right out of your system.” Clint so eloquently suggested.
Liam, sitting to Clint’s right, nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, man. She isn’t worth the damage you’re doing to yourself over there. You knew from the beginning she was only attracted to your image. Hell,
most
of them are only after us because we are tattooed, bad-boy musicians.” He snorted. “Not even famous musicians. They wouldn’t even know us outside of a bar. How pathetic is that?”
Liam swept his arm around indicating the young, scantily clad females crowding around them. “Crazy bitches have no morals or self-respect. It’s like a God damn competition for them to see who can ride the most cocks in their lifetime.”
He knew what they said was true. Had known from the start that Brittney wasn’t looking for a happily ever after. That doesn’t mean that he wasn’t though. Deep down, he had hoped that their relationship would blossom into something real. Too many times he had made that mistake.
Aidan heaved a sigh. Maybe it was time to just lay off women for a while. It would be hell for him to remain single when all he had ever wanted was to find love and settle down. Unfortunately, he had to do something to break this pattern he was in before he was literally sucked dry. Hope was steadily dwindling as it was.
One thing was for sure, Liam was right. There was no point in punishing himself by drinking anymore. But he knew without a doubt taking on another woman right now was akin to suicide. Self-preservation was thankfully still alive inside his booze addled brain.
He shoved his beer away and stood up from his chair. It was time to go home, sleep off his drunk, and start repairing the damage these women have caused to his heart.
“I gotta take a piss. When I’m done, I think someone needs to take me home.”
He stumbled towards the bathroom hearing “No problem, man.” from Liam.
Aidan splashed water on his face and checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked like shit. His normally olive complexion was pale, and he had deep, dark rings under his eyes. Sleep had eluded him over the last few days.
He wasn’t actually all that upset about losing Brittney. If he were honest with himself, he could admit that he actually hadn’t liked her all that much. She was an extremely shallow self-absorbed person. A material girl.
No, it wasn’t Brittney he was mourning. He was mourning the loss of companionship. At least when she was around he didn’t feel quite as lonely.
Or did he?
Looking back, there were many times when they were together he had wondered why she hung around at all.
She never seemed to appreciate him. The only time she actually paid any attention to him was when she was at the shop or when the band had a gig. Even then it was all about her. She loved to draw attention to herself.
Maybe he had faulty wiring or something. Some type of deficit that makes him utterly incompatible with women. If that were the case, then he was screwed. He would be damned if he could figure out what it was, or how to fix it.
He hated the fact the he was thirty years old and still single. He had always envisioned himself married with at least one child by this age. Family was paramount to him, and he wanted one of his own.
Thinking of his nephew, Hayden, with his cubby little face and ornery laugh caused an ache in his heart. He wanted that, a little mini Aidan. Someone to love, cherish and protect. Ready to settle down and start having a family, he all too quickly opened himself up to heartache and disappointment. And each heartache took a little more out of him.
Drinking was obviously a lousy idea. Standing here debating his past and his future while under the influence was only going to pull him under more. When he felt relatively steady, he exited the men’s room and stumbled down the short hallway. The sooner he was able to go home, the sooner he could start nursing the hangover he was no doubt going to have.
Rounding the corner in his drunken haze, the tip of his right shoe caught the edge of the frayed carpet. Bracing himself for the hard impact into the wall, his hands shot out to catch himself. Instead of chipped paint and dry wall, he felt soft flesh. Soft
feminine
flesh. The impact jarred slightly as he collided with her body and then the wall.
The first thing he noticed was her scent. Ah God, her scent was ambrosia. She gasped a breath as Aidan’s nose ran up the side of her neck. It was the kind of gasp that elicited raunchy sexual fantasies. He wanted to hear that same gasp as he worked between her thighs with his mouth, with his cock.
He hadn’t even seen her face yet, and he already wanted her. Instinctively he knew she would be beautiful. No woman could smell this alluring and
not
be beautiful. It just wasn’t possible. Was there such a thing as love at first scent?
“Damn, you smell good. Why couldn’t I have run into you when I was sober?”
Soft clothing covered flesh quivered beneath him, flesh that overflowed his hands. It was quite a feat considering how big his hands were. He realized too late that the soft flesh he was groping was actually her breasts. It was too late because he knew it was inappropriate, and that he would be embarrassed if he were thinking clearly. Too late because he was already in over his head and never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry.” Voice raspy from arousal, he lifted his head to look her in the eyes. She had incredible green eyes. “I’m really not a
perv.” He slurred. “Well, I am a perv, but not usually to strangers, and I’m not usually sober. I mean, I usually drink a lot. No, wait, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was I...” Sighing in frustration, he laid his forehead on her shoulder.
Shaking his head back and forth, he tried once again to put his thoughts to words. “I’m messing this all up. I’m drunk. I don’t usually drink this much. I wish I was sober so I could tell you how beautiful you are and how good you smell without sounding like a total letch.”
Atayla’s breath whooshed out when two hundred pounds of drunken man slammed her against the wall. Dear God that hurt. Wait – was he sniffing her?
“Damn, you smell good. Why couldn’t I have run into you when I was sober?”
His voice was whiskey rough and sent tingles across her sensitive skin. She was hyperaware of him and his masculinity, and it was unsettling. She hadn’t been this aware of a man since she had started dating Randall.