Loose Ends (Magnolia Series Book 1)

  Loose Ends

  Magnolia Series: Book One

  Taylor Dawn

  Copyright 2016 Taylor Dawn

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: taylor@taylordawn-author.com

  Cover Design by ZH Designs

  Edited by Wendy Garfinkle

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  ISBN: 13 – 978-1523720231, 10 - 1523720239

  Acknowledgements

  Of course I have to thank a few people for their amazing work and help on Loose Ends.

  Thank you to my editor, Wendy Garfinkle for yet again showing me that I haven’t fully grasped the concept of where commas need to go.

  Thank you to my cover designer, Zee Hayat, you brought my vision to life and I love it.

  To Stephanie Stacker, thank you for helping me out by formatting my smutty creation.

  To my dear author friend A.M. Willard. Thank you for being there for me through the exhausting task of writing yet another book. I will always be your bitch and yes, you can play with my feet anytime you want.

  To another author friend, Brandy Jellum. You rock for keeping me on track and listening to be complain about life in general.

  Last, but of course not least…My amazing group of loyal fans and readers! You guys are the glue that holds this all together. I love you guys so much. You are the ones I do this for and I hope you all enjoy Loose Ends as much as I did.

  Peace, Love and Pages

  Taylor Dawn

  Loose Ends is dedicated to my dear friend and fellow princess, Danielle. This chick has taught me so much about living the life I was given and enjoying each day like it could be my last. You’re going to beat the ‘C’ word, Danielle. I believe that with all my heart. Keep fighting, keep being brave and never forget to wear your tiara!

  Prologue

  “I have to get out of here,” Ava chanted to herself as she stuffed as many articles of clothing into her bags as she could manage. There wasn’t time for her keen organizational skills that would normally be incorporated in something like this. It was do or die time. If she didn’t get the hell out of her apartment in the next fifteen minutes, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to leave.

  Yanking shirts from their neatly hung spots in the small closet nearby, she shoved them into the duffle bag with the rest of the already crumpled clothing. Wrinkles were the least of her worries at this point. Darting into the bathroom Ava scooped what she could of her toiletries into the bag in her hand, trying to ignore the constant buzz of her phone in the other room. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she was answering that damn thing. In fact, the phone wasn’t going with her on this trip. It would be just one more way they could track and find her.

  She couldn’t afford that kind of thoughtless mistake. Once she finally left, she’d be a ghost. The only people who would be able to find her would be the government—with all of their satellites and NSA bullshit—but she was going to try her best to fly under their radar, too.

  After taking what she could from the bathroom Ava went back to the bags of clothing, zipped them up, and headed for the door. Instinct alone caused her to peer through the peephole to make damn sure someone wasn’t waiting on the other side. Letting out a resigned sigh, she finally swung the familiar door open and looked back one last time at her cramped Chicago apartment. Being forced to leave something you loved—even if it was tiny—was a kick to the gut. It was someplace she’d felt safe, a place that’d been her sanctuary from the outside world. But in the course of the past few hours, it’d become the worst kind of prison. One she couldn’t bear to be in for even a few seconds longer. She tossed her bags into the dimly lit hallway and pulled the door closed behind her. Bothering to lock it was a waste of time. They’d get in there no matter how many locks were in place. Might as well save the landlord some repair money.

  The door clicked into place, signifying the finality of her decision. It wasn’t really a choice, though—more of a preservation thing. It was this or stay here and be a victim of what was coming. And that was not an option.

  Ava hefted the bags on her arms and ran down the steps of the apartment building. Her feet protested the jaunt but it was either wear the pink plaid pumps or leave them behind. There just wasn’t room in her bags for them. Since they happened to be her favorite pair of heels, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them behind. Soon she busted through the outer entryway of the building and was on the sidewalk, looking both ways to make sure no one was trying to follow her. By her calculations she had about four minutes to get the hell out of Dodge, so she scurried along until the familiar shade of a yellow cab came whizzing in her direction. Ava dropped a bag to free a hand and threw it in the air to flag him down. He practically screeched to a halt. She wasted no time tossing her bags into the car and climbing among the cracked greyish vinyl.

  “Where to?” the driver gruffly bit out.

  “The bus station, please. And if you make it snappy, there’s an extra hundred in it for you.” She looked out the back window with paranoia. There still wasn’t anyone she recognized but that wouldn’t last long. They had people everywhere. Soon her once-sacred home would be turned upside down.

  “I think I can make that happen. Hang on.” He laughed and slammed on the gas pedal of the car.

  Ava’s spine jolted into the back of the seat but she wasn’t complaining. It was better than staying on the street waiting for them to find her.

  When the driver buzzed in front of the bus station she hopped out quickly and threw him a wad of cash — including his extra hundred bucks. She snatched up her belongings and hurried inside to buy a ticket. Ava didn’t have a destination in mind. All she knew was that she had to get out of Chicago. Away from the danger that would surely be on her ass if she didn’t leave now. As she walked through the sliding glass doors, the entire place was abuzz with people. She didn’t want to be seen. She wanted invisibility if at all possible. At least this was a public place. If they had people here, maybe the number of travelers around would deter them from doing something stupid and getting caught red-handed. She continued to walk to the ticket counter while ducking her head and not making eye contact with anyone nearby. As she neared the counter, she pulled her wallet from her purse and glanced at the board behind the attendant on duty. It boasted the destinations to which the busses ran, but which one should she take?

  “Can I help you?” he kindly asked, clearly seeing the indecision on her face.

  “I just need a ticket please.” She didn’t look him in the eyes.

  “A ticket to where?”

  Shit. “Um, I’m not quite sure.” Ava began to fidget.

  “Well, if you want a ticket, you have to know where you’re going, Miss.” He chuckled.

  “Uh, where would you recommend?” She wasn’t sure why the hell she’d even ask him that, but there it was.

  He let out a belly laugh behind the protection of the full-body sneeze guard. “Honey, I’m not a travel agent.” He leaned to the side and looked behind her which put her entire body on edge. “Now, if you’ll be so kind, I need to sell tickets to people who actually
know where they’re going.”

  Ava turned slightly and saw a petite elderly woman behind her. “Oh.” She stepped out of line and motioned for the other woman to take the vacated spot. “Go ahead, I’m so sorry.”

  She once again glanced around at her surroundings, trying to get a bearing on what she was actually doing. This wasn’t something she’d ever dreamed she’d have to do. Her life had an order, a purpose…so she thought. Now everything came down to making a decision about what would keep her safe. What would distance her from the people who would harm her? She tilted her head back and checked the board behind the man once more as he finished up with the geriatric woman.

  As her eyes raked over the list of destinations several times, one location stood out. Stepping back up to the counter after the elderly woman had gotten her ticket squared away, Ava inhaled a deep breath. The man behind the glass glared at her expectantly, drumming his chubby fingers on the counter beside the computer keyboard. Ava raised her chin with a hint of confidence—one she really wasn’t feeling at the moment—and spoke, “One ticket to Biloxi, Mississippi, please.”

  Chapter One

  Two years later

  “Just a little off the top?” Ava glanced in the mirror at Jack Thompson. He’d been stepping into the small one-chair salon since she’d planted her new roots in Biloxi, Mississippi. Every week like clockwork, Jack would plop his alcohol-soaked ass in the styling chair so Ava could take the extra quarter of an inch of hair off his mostly bald head. Jack was one of those men who constantly ogled her chest, but she wasn’t one to complain—the guy was a fantastic tipper.

  “You know the drill, Ava.” He smiled.

  “I think you only come in here to see me, Jack. You don’t really need a haircut this week,” Ava joked while spreading the styling cape over his body, snapping it around his sweat soaked neck.

  “You caught me.” He began to laugh but was interrupted by his own coughing fit. “Don’t tell anyone.” He finally recovered and patted his heaving chest.

  “You have my word.” She made a “cross my heart” motion and reached for the electric clippers hanging from a hook on the wall. Every time she flipped the switch on the cutting tool it was like a sound of home. A comforting racket that told her this was who she was, and where she was supposed to be.

  Watching the small chunks of hair fall across the cutting cape as she worked, Ava whipped the clippers across Jack’s head until he was completely bald once more. “Alright, you’re good to go.” She brushed some talcum powder across his neck and unsnapped the cape, its familiar whooshing sound another comfort in her small business.

  “Much better.” He rubbed a hand across his scalp and grinned. “Not sure how I managed until you got here.”

  “What can I say, I’m a miracle worker.” Ava shrugged. She jerked her head around when a snort sounded behind her. Ready with a retort to whomever was rudely interrupting her and her client, she stopped at the sight of what could only be described as “man candy” standing in the doorway.

  His entire body was backlit with a glow from the beaming sun filtering through the plate glass door. Her eyes raked over his physique, her mouth drying up like a Miniature Mohave Dessert with each dose of eye-fucking she managed to shell out. Holy shit balls. Who let the sexy beast out of his cage? Her dry mouth dropped open while she continued to stand there gawking at the artwork of a man in the doorway. Under a dark blue sleeveless t-shirt sat broad muscled shoulders and biceps that were clearly made for hard work. I have some hard work he could do, she internally mused. A flat stomach led into lean hips that were tucked into an extremely dirty and worn pair of blue jeans. Scuffed-up cowboy boots were on his feet with the jean bottoms tucked into each one. Okay, yuck. That’s not cool, at all. She decided to move her gaze back to his face. Holy Christ on a cracker! She didn’t think they even made men like him anymore. Whew! His jawline held at least a days’ worth of scruff but under that un-refinement was a gorgeous bone structure that was the right amount of masculine and perfection. Bits of curled-up light brown hair peeked out from underneath his filthy camouflaged ball cap and when he lifted his head just a tiny bit, she could see a set of glittering blue eyes. Every single feature on this man was nothing shy of gorgeous. The pants tucked into the boots she could deal with if it meant being able to mentally screw him for as long as he stood there.

  “Are you gonna stand there and ogle the shit outta me all day, or can a man get a haircut?” He had a knowing smile on his face.

  “Uh, yeah sure.” Ava nervously gestured to the styling chair.

  “Here ya go, young lady. I’ll see ya next week.” Jack cut in and laid the payment for his haircut on the counter beside the silver hair dryer.

  “Thank you, Jack. Same time next week.” Ava gave him a pat on the back like she did every single week.

  Once Jack was through the door, the air in the salon became somewhat uncomfortable. She was all alone with the tall drink of water but somehow she was parched beyond belief.

  “Where do you want me?” he asked.

  She had several places she wanted him, but none appropriate to say out loud. “Right here.” She spun the chair around in invitation.

  Ava had never had an issue with nervousness when doing her job. Each client was money in her pocket and she’d been trained by the best. But for some strange reason, this guy was causing her hands to tremble. Her only savior would be her knack for conversation; that was one thing she knew how to do. Talk. “So, how do you want me to do you?” Shit! “I mean…do it. How do you want me to do your hair?” She felt the flame of embarrassment crawl up her face.

  The chuckle that escaped his sexy lips resonated around her causing a shudder to rack her overheated body. Trying to keep busy she draped the cutting cloth over him and began to fasten it around his neck. Oh, God, his scent. He was putting off an aroma that was a combination of expensive cologne and fresh Mississippi soil. Thoughts of leaning down and trailing her tongue across the smooth expanse of his neck crossed her mind. No, I can’t do that. She mentally slapped her wrist with a ruler.

  “Just clean it up a bit. I’ve got a date tonight,” he said. The thought that some other woman would get the pleasure of his company sent jealousy and disappointment coursing through her veins. What was she supposed to say to that?

  “Congrats.” The dumbest thing possible flew out of her nervy lips.

  “Yeah, thanks. I guess.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like “oh you’re so hideous that you couldn’t possibly procure a date’.” Ava tried to explain.

  “What the hell does “procure” mean?”

  “To obtain…you know, to get a date?”

  “Gotcha. Well, I appreciate you thinking I’m not a dog.”

  “Thanks.” She ducked her head in awkwardness. “I’m Ava by the way.” She decided to introduce herself to lead the conversation away from its current territory.

  “Luke. Luke Daughtry.” He did the same.

  “Nice to meet you, Luke.” And it was nice to meet him. Even his name was sexy as hell. How could such perfection be wrapped up in even more perfection? Was this a dream? Was she going to wake up and find that this whole day never even happened? Wouldn’t that be an epic disappointment?

  “Let’s get you looking great for your date, shall we?” Ava steadied her nerves and began her routine. She was damn good at what she did. This wasn’t the time to get all tongue-tied crazy over a hot guy in her chair. It was time to put her skills to work and make Luke look good for his lucky date. Damn the bitch, whoever she was.

  “I’m all yours.” He looked in the mirror and gave a sweet half smile. If only his words were true and he was all hers.

  Grabbing her spray bottle of water she began to mist the liquid over the gleaming strands of Luke’s hair. She raked her fingers through the shaggy mop to distribute the water and cop a feel of his silky strands. Once he was prepped enough, she picked up her shears. “Here we go.”

&nb
sp; Normally Ava was extremely chatty when doing her job, but with Luke she couldn’t find the right words to say. Everything she thought of sounded ridiculous, even to her. The silence was killing her. “I haven’t seen you around. Are you new in town?” she asked as she snipped off the curled ends of his hair.

  “I’m originally from here. Just moved back a few months ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “My grandma passed and left me her house and property in the will. I figured I’d come back, fix it all up and sell it for a nice profit,” he added.

  “Where were you before here?” She relaxed a bit as the conversation progressed.

  “You sure do ask a lot of questions.” He shot her a slightly annoyed look in the mirror.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You’re one of those nosy hair dresser types aren’t you? You like to get in everyone’s business and spread gossip around town like a busybody.”

  Whoa, what’s his problem? She took a step away from the chair and fought the urge to stab him in the neck with the two blades of German steel in her hand. No, she wasn’t one of those types. If anything she was far from it. The fact that Luke thought she was something she wasn’t made her see red. “Look, I don’t give a damn about you. I was attempting to make polite conversation because that’s what I do to keep you from thinking I’m a stuck-up asshole. But clearly you’re the asshole here.”

  “Could you put those scissors down? I don’t feel like getting impaled today.” He smirked.

  “They. Are. Shears,” she corrected.

  “Oh, excuse me. Could you put your pruning shears down, please?” He spun himself around in the chair and gave a look that she felt straight to her toes. “I’m not trying to be a dick,” he stated. “I just hate people digging around in my personal shit.”