FEARLESS: Murphy Girls - Book #2 Read online

  CHAPTER 1 – The Plan

  I was a person that knew what she wanted. Sure, I plotted and planned, but there was never any doubt of what I wanted. The plotting and planning was required to insure I got what I wanted, that’s all.

  And I wanted Quince Thomas. I had wanted him for years. I just hadn’t made any moves. Yet. Well, if you didn’t count that time a couple of years ago when I forced him to kiss me under some mistletoe at a Christmas get together.

  I know he responded, although he denies it. I felt the quiver of his lips, had felt the rush of his breath against my face. And technically he did grab me by the shoulders, but moments later he pushed me away.

  We had seen each other countless times before then but the last couple years he moved away to college. Now, we seldom saw each other. I was going to change that.

  See, our families were neighbors, and had been for some time. Not only did we live next door to each other, Quince and I had been thrown together countless times as our parents tended to hang out together.

  But once Quince had moved out, to live closer to his college, he seldom came home except for holidays and during summer vacation. At the age of 21, it was unlikely he would come home to stay permanently, I thought. It seemed once one graduated from college, life or his new job, would take him elsewhere.

  That is where my plan comes in. I too was getting ready to start college, and had the ability to choose where I wanted to continue my studies.

  I could have chosen Portsmouth College, where my sister Marilyn currently attended. And I thought hard about that, even visiting her there and spending some time on campus. Or I could have selected the local junior college that my older sister Mimi had once attended, and continue living at home. Or any number of other colleges and universities were open to me.

  Instead, I applied to Belford University, which was hours away. Not only did it have a comprehensive nursing program, which I had enrolled in, but it wasn’t too far from home yet far enough where I would need to stay on campus at the dorms.

  Sounds great, right? Well, the reason why Belford was the top contender, in my eyes, is because Quince was enrolled there.

  OK, so some would say I was following him, and I guess I kind of was. I knew that living in the same town and going to the same university did not necessarily mean we would see more of each other but I had this need to at least try. Try to get closer to him, and pursue this need I had to get to know him better. The challenge was if he would let me in. Oh, and what a challenge it would be!

  Let me explain more about me. I was the youngest of three girls. First there was Mimi, the oldest at 24, then Marilyn at 21 and me, Megan who finally had turned 18 several weeks back. As the youngest, I always wanted to do what my bigger sisters were doing, and I was adamant that there wasn’t anything they could do that I couldn’t do. I know I thrived on challenges, even back then.

  I still felt that way today. When I want something, I am unwavering in my dedication to get what I want. And by get, I mean work for, earn, and strive for that which I want.

  My headstrong ways pushed me to do some pretty crazy things when I was much younger. Now, I at least think before I acted, I thought. And lately, I have been thinking a lot about my future.

  Graduating high school oftentimes makes one feels like their life is just beginning. I felt that way too, and it really made me think. What do I want?

  I knew that becoming a nurse was number one on the list. It was something I had dreamed about doing for years. My mom was a nurse, and I saw how her job was sometimes hard but also rewarding. I mean, helping others when they were too sick or injured to do it for themselves. Count me in!

  Number two on the list was Quince Thomas. There was something about him that I could not shake. We had spoken to each other many times over the years. I would spend my time hanging out in his garage while he tinkered on a car he had up on blocks. He never seemed to mind I was there.

  He was a quiet spoken guy, and didn’t say a lot. I kept the conversation flowing. I had no problem with shyness or lack of topics. When he would talk, I remember I listened intently to what he had to say. His voice was deep and sounded melodic to me. I was fascinated by his lips, and would watch them as he spoke.

  I am not sure when I started viewing our friendship in a different light. It was definitely before I swooped in and kissed him that Christmas when I was 15. Back then, the three year difference in our ages seemed huge.

  I was a freshman in high school that Christmas, and was starting to blossom into womanhood. My blonde hair had always been straight and was a marked contrast with my deep brown eyes. Back then, I was new at learning to enhance my features, so I didn’t wear makeup yet and still had no defined style to my hair. I guess some would say I was still in my ugly duckling phase. My body was starting to fill out, but I still had a lanky, awkward look.

  Quince was a senior and was 6 months from graduation. He already showed an assurance in his walk and talk, and had no problem finding dates for the school dances, although he tended not to date much at all.

  I suppose our relationship changed when I started high school in my freshman year. There, I saw a different Quince then the guy I knew. His dark good looks and silent ways seemed to attract the girls at our school. His eyes were this deep green, and he had a way of looking at you like he was interested in what you had to say. His chin already had a chiseled look, and coupled with the dark stubble that appeared each afternoon, he looked and acted older than his 18 years.

  Those months before Christmas, I found myself searching for him in the hall ways of our school and silently watching him. When he made the basketball team, I would go with my girlfriends to every game. They were interested in the cheerleaders, watching them for ideas they could use when they all tried out for varsity cheerleader the following year, but I wasn’t watching the cheerleaders at all.

  I only had eyes for Quince. When he would score, I always imagined him looking at me in the stands, just to insure I saw him. It likely wasn’t true, as the scoreboard was in that same direction, but it was fun to imagine. But still, we knew each other, and it was not uncommon to get a small wave from him or a slow smile. I enjoyed those moments so much. But I knew they were friendly smiles and waves.

  I can still remember what Quince said, as he pulled away from me that long ago Christmas. “You’re too young to kiss me like that,” he gasped out, holding me away from him.

  What I yearned for was to meet Quince on equal terms now, and discover if this attraction from long ago still existed?

  Last year, he never came home for the Christmas holidays at all. Instead, he met his parents and older sister at a ski resort and spent the holidays there. I never even got to see him.

  And this summer, I hadn’t seen him yet either. I know I heard my parents mention that he had a job, and it was hard to get away for the summer like in years past. I had resigned myself that I likely wouldn’t see him until I moved to the dorms later next month.

  That’s why I decided I would make the next move. Literally. I had to see him, and if he wouldn’t come home, then I would go to him, I thought. Because I still thought about him; too much, it seemed. And I kept replaying his words about me being too young. Well, I was 18 now. Legally I was an adult, and it was time to make my move.

  I could feel the excitement well up in me. Calm down, I told myself, you don’t even move for another month.

  I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and grimaced at the time. Almost 230pm, and I needed to be at work in a half an hour.

  Bending down, I put on my shoes. Our cat named Baby came up to me, rubbing against my leg with an insistent, “Merr”, her version of a meow. Taking a moment to p
et her soft fur, I scratched behind her ears, and then picked her up for a hug. “I’m going to miss you terribly,” I murmured into her fur, hugging her to me.

  I set her down, and reached for my purse, taking a last look at my appearance in the dresser mirror. My hair was past shoulder length, long and straight. I used a hair straightener to get a smooth, soft look; otherwise I had gentle waves in my hair. My hair looked paler than normal, compliments of the sun. My skin looked golden in my bedroom light, darkened from the time I spent outdoors so far this summer. I had no need for makeup, except for dark black mascara, that I used to length my lashes.

  Turning away from the mirror, I proceeded out my door down the hallway. The house was quiet around me as both my parents were still at work.

  Grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table, I wrote a quick note reminding my parents that I was working this afternoon, and would be home long past dinner. Checking one last time for my cell in my pocket, I opened the front door, and walked to the street, where my car was parked.

  The red color of my little car was bright in the sunlight. It was an import hatchback that had been given to me on my 16th birthday. I kept it in good condition, but it was an older model and the dark interior made the inside stuffy. Turning the key, I automatically turned up the A/C. Summer in the Midwest could be very humid, and today was extremely warm.

  As my car warmed up, I looked around my neighborhood. With a pang, I thought, I am going to miss living here. We lived at the end of a small cul-de-sac. I loved the neighborhood, as it was like a small community. The area had tall towering pines, which allowed shade to invade most of the area, but the best part was the path that led down to river access, a short walk from our house.

  Our home was small, but had a neat tidy appearance, but the selling point was the water access the entire community shared. There was a small dock and beach area, if one wanted to spend time down by the water.

  Because only the local neighborhood had access, typically it was not crowded. Not far past the beach was a larger dock, where several boats were parked. Both my parents and Quince’s parents had boats docked there during the summer. For this reason, we tended to spend most summers boating and swimming.

  I had spent many days down on the water with friends through the years. The river was wide enough that many people enjoyed water skiing and tubing back and forth through the channel. Several miles to the east, the river fed off a large lake called Lake McGinnis, and further to the west several miles down was a small dam.

  With a wistful look toward the water, I put my car in drive and headed several blocks away to the nearby grocery store, Laney’s. I parked my car as far away from the store entrance as I could, and walked towards the entrance.

  I had worked at Laney’s for the last couple of years, mainly as a stocker but I also was expected to clean up spills, bag groceries, and sometimes, check out customers at the cash register.

  I really enjoyed the work and the people I worked with. It was such a fast paced job, that time tended to go so quickly. I waved at a fellow checker as I made my way to an entrance for employees only. Through the door, I turned left to a small locker room, where I could leave my phone and purse, until my shift was over.

  I locked up my personal items, while taking my red apron from my locker, putting it on, making sure my name tag was on correctly, with my name MEGAN showing forward.

  Washing my hands, I then proceed to the time clock and clocked in. 2:55pm. I checked the schedule to verify what time I was scheduled off, and saw I was on until 9pm tonight, as I had thought. With a brisk walk, I headed to the manager’s office for my job duties for tonight.

  CHAPTER 2 – The Meeting

  Later that evening, I pulled into the cul-de-sac, glad the night was over. The sky to the west had the faintest tinge of light still, but it was dark here where the towering trees were so abundant. I could feel a kink in my neck, and I needed a shower, I thought, looking forward to getting home.

  As I was pulling up to my house, I noticed the Thomas’s house next door had their garage door open, but no light on. Weird, I thought, wondering if perhaps they had forgotten to shut their garage door.

  The house also seemed dark, which led me to believe no one was home. There was only a strange truck parked out front that I didn’t recognize. Were my parents and the Thomas’s doing something together tonight? I couldn’t remember.

  Deciding I had better investigate, I put my cell in my pocket, and left my purse in my car and started walking towards the house. Then I remembered the strange truck and decided I should bring the can of mace I always kept in my purse, and hurriedly went back in my car, and searched my purse for it.

  Can of mace in hand, I quietly walked over to the neighbors, peering around for any strangers. As I slowly approached the garage, I was looking inside the dark interior, trying to see if anyone lurked there.

  I couldn’t see anyone, so I headed towards the front window to look inside the house when someone behind me said, “Can I help you?” in a deep voice.

  Startled, I spun around, lifting the can upward at the same time, ready to spray the stranger, when he hollered, “Hey!” and reached out and grabbed me in a bear hug. “Put that down!” he shouted.

  The pressure of his arms around me caused me to drop the can of mace. Looking up, I was trying to catch my breath as he held me so tight, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Quince?” I gasped, trying to fill my lungs with air. I tilted up my head, but all I could see was a chin with a couple days growth of whiskers in a dark brown. The body against mine felt lean and hard, but it was too dark to see this guy’s face. There was a clean, musky sent about him that sparked some kind of a memory.

  “Yeah,” he said, as I felt a slight relaxing in his arms before he released me. “Hang on, let me get the light,” he said, turning from me and walking in the dark interior.

  Watching him walk away, I was certain now it was Quince. I recognized his saunter immediately. How could I forget it?

  Suddenly the garage lit up, and I watched him turn towards me.

  My first impression of him was he had lost weight. He looked more wiry, and hard, and his face was much leaner. And my god, I thought, he looked hotter than I remembered. My mouth started watering and I felt a tremor go through me.

  As I stood before him, I saw him look at me and his eyebrows did this downturn thing, like he was trying to figure something out, and then I saw his face brighten up with recognition.

  “Megan!” he said in surprise. His gaze traveled down my body and then back up again quickly. “Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you,” he continued, walking towards me.

  I know I should have said something, but all I could do is look at him, absorbing the little changes I saw. Were those small crow’s feet at his eyes? He seemed taller to me too, as he stopped in front of me. And what was it about a guy with a 5 o’clock shadow that was so hot?

  He reached out a hand and I felt his fingers grab the ends of my hair and tugged a little. “Your hair is much longer than I remember,” he said, his voice low.

  I finally found my voice. “You’ve been gone a while. It grew.” I said, my nose scrunching up.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, squinting up at him.

  He gave a half laugh, and said, “I thought I would spend a couple of days at home.” He looked around, and turned back to me and said, “It was time.”

  “I know,” I retorted, my hands on my hips. “I hope your mom gives you hell for not coming home more often,” I challenged him.

  I couldn’t stop looking at him, noticing his legs in his shorts, looking muscular, back up his flat stomach up to his broad shoulders, and then stopping when I reached his face. My eyes met his, and I said softly, “I almost forgot what you looked like, it has been so long.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, and then said, “I remember how you looked, with your freckles and bleached white hair.”

  He glanced down and I am certa
in he hesitated a moment at my breasts. Yes, there was some definite growth there, I thought to myself with a smile.

  He looked back up at me with a small smile, “I probably wouldn’t have recognized you if we passed on the street today though. You’ve changed.”

  “I think that might be a good thing,” I replied smiling back at him.

  He looked so sexy when he smiled, his sexual magnetism felt tangible, it felt like I could reach out and touch it. Looking at him, it reinforced my desire to be a part of this man’s life.

  “So will you be around tomorrow for the barbeque?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, reaching down and picking up a duffel bag I hadn’t seen sitting on the ground near his feet.

  “Well, then I will let you go and I will see you tomorrow,” I said, starting to walk backwards so that I could continue to face him, finding it difficult to stop looking at him.

  I stopped suddenly. What the hell, I thought, and started walking up to him. I was looking at his eyes, and I could see his brows rise, as if surprised. When I was right in front of him, I put my hands around his torso, just below his arms. Pressing my body to him, I hugged him to me. My hands rested at the small of his back, heat emanating from him. As if in reflex, his hands dropped the duffel bag and he put both his hands on my waist.

  Warmth suffused me, and I could feel the hard lines of his body, cushioned against my softness. I could smell his unique masculine smell, and feel the cloth of his t-shirt, soft against my hands.

  “Welcome home, Quince,” I said softly, my head resting on his chest for a moment. I could hear the beat of his heart, steady in his chest. I felt his hands clench at my waist, as if involuntarily, and then relax. I knew I held him slightly longer than I had intended but he felt so good, I wanted to linger.

  With reluctance, I dropped my arms, and he let go of me. Stepping back and turning around, I walked away. I didn’t want to make eye contact. I didn’t want him to see my face, afraid of what he might see there. Emotions were coursing through me, and I wasn’t ready to share them. I wasn’t prepared to share with him how he made me feel, afraid of his reaction.