Prologue

Annabelle

THE SUN SHONE BRIGHT in Athens, Georgia. I was spending the afternoon with my friend, Keegan, at her boyfriend’s parent’s house. We’d just arrived after finishing the grand “march across the stage to be handed a blank piece of paper that was supposed to represent our diploma” ceremony. Graduating from nursing school had been a big deal, but my day was severely dampened by the fact that my parents were not in attendance. I didn’t necessarily feel alone, or like each step I took across the stage would cause me to suddenly burst into tears because nobody was here to cheer me on in the crowd. It felt more like a simmering anger down in my gut that, once again, this was a milestone I was celebrating on my own. When you’ve been an orphan since the ripe old age of sixteen, you not only start to accept the quiet, you welcome it. You learn to hold your shoulders back instead of slouched from defeat. You become strong in moments of weakness and I’ve become my own support system. On this day though, I felt like a cloud was hovering over my moment of joviality. I wanted to see my mother’s bright red hair blowing in the wind, smiling as she held a Kleenex to her reddened eyes. I wanted to see my father clapping and cheering me on as if this day belonged to only me. Instead, they weren’t here, and every fiber of my being felt saturated in sadness. I switched that emotion to anger because it felt more tangible. So when Keegan asked me to come spend time with the Brooks family, I accepted. I wanted to feel a connection, even if it wasn’t my own. I wanted to surround myself with a family. I was appreciative of her offer, that is until it wound up being a giant pain in my ass . . . or ankle as it happened.

The Brooks family had a tradition that they played baseball every time they got together. This family took their baseball seriously, as evidenced by their boys being named after baseball stadiums. Keegan really wanted me to hang out after lunch to play. I wasn’t so sure I should have for a couple of reasons: one, I wasn’t really wearing appropriate clothing for outdoor activities, and two, I had never played baseball before in my life. However, hearing her excitement for the game is what changed my mind. It was fun watching the family pick teams, and heckling one another about who was going to win. Family dynamics always gave me a twinge of something. I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because that wasn’t the right word. No, it was more like envy. Their family unit was something I desired in my own life. Yeah, I was envious of their connection.

As the game progressed, all was going well until it was my turn to bat. I hit a grounder and began running the bases. As I rounded third, my foot caught the lip of the base and down I went, hard. There I lay, splayed out in the dirt, and my pride sitting somewhere back at second base. Pain shot through my ankle the moment I tried to lift myself from the ground to stand. Wincing, I grabbed my leg, cursing under my breath. Son of a bitch, that hurt! Looks like fashion didn’t beat out practical today. I heard the sound of shoes crunching on the ground coming up beside me. Somehow, I instinctively knew who it was before his shadow shrouded over me, blocking the sun. My eyes ran the length of him. Up and up I glanced, taking in every inch that was Turner Brooks. I noted just how tall he really was. From this angle, he was a giant. Then again, my butt was currently on the ground in a non-graceful manner so, of course, he looked ginormous. My tummy did a little flip when I made eye contact with his crystal blue ones. He took a moment to look me over, probably deciphering what kind of idiot I really was, before he crouched down beside me.

“You all right?” he asked.

The deep baritone of his voice made my breath catch. I simply nodded. Keegan came running up to my other side and I turned my gaze in her direction. Her face was etched with concern. I really hated the look of pity she was giving me. Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t ever feel sorry for me.

“Annabelle, can you roll it this way?” Turner asked, bringing my attention back to him.

I tried to wiggle my now tender ankle. The moment I moved it, pain sliced through my foot and I hissed. Could this day get any crazier? I shook my head. “How embarrassing! I’m so sorry for ruining the game.” I placed my face in my palms.

“Hush,” Turner scolded. I glanced up at him, taken aback by his tone. “You didn’t ruin anything. Accidents happen all the time, plus you’re wearing flip flops, so that didn’t help.”

I was about to say something when Keegan jumped in and spoke. “Turner, scolding her isn’t helping anyone.” Keegan may be small, but the glare she gave him was fierce. “Can you at least tell if it’s broken?”

I peered between the two of them and watched a silent show down take place. Turner’s jaw was clenched in frustration. I couldn’t tell if it was toward Keegan or me, but I could only assume it was the latter. Of course he was frustrated with me, we were all having fun and I interrupted it because I so gracefully decided to see what the dirt tasted like. Awesome. Keegan, on the other hand, just looked confused. Turner reached out and gingerly lifted my foot, supporting it with one hand under my heel, while his other hand tenderly pressed around my ankle.

“Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken, but you’re going to have to sit out the rest of the game.” I was disappointed because I was enjoying myself. Wonderful first impression, Annabelle. I silently told myself. “In fact, I think you need to go back to the house and get some ice on it before it starts swelling,” Turner stated.

As a new RN, you would think that I would have thought about the ice . . . nope! I looked at Keegan. “I can’t believe this happened, I’m not normally this clumsy.” Except I really am. I could trip and fall even while standing completely still.

The confused look Keegan held earlier was now wiped away. Her blue eyes were soft when she replied, “No worries. I just hope that you’re okay.” She turned towards her boyfriend, Camden, whom is probably the second hottest guy I’d ever seen, (we don’t need to talk about the man currently hovering over me taking first place in that category) and asked if he could come help me get on the golf cart. Just as Camden started walking towards me, two strong arms lifted me in the air and I instinctively wrapped my arms around Turner’s neck.

“I’ve got her,” he replied as he moved us away from everyone. I had no doubt they were all looking on in confusion.

“What are you doing? I could have walked you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, you couldn’t. You already tried to wiggle it and look how far that got you. Just hush and let me get you on the cart.”

The little butterflies in my tummy were fluttering wildly now. Turner was currently caring for me as if he knew what he was doing. I was aware that Camden owned a gym, so I imagine they all knew what to do in case someone got injured. But I felt like I was a hindrance to his game with his family. Getting a headache right between my eyes, I closed my mouth and chose not to argue, and decided to just relax until we got back to the house. When Turner set me on the overheated plastic seat, he didn’t give me a second glance as he rounded the front and slid in next to me. Turning back towards the field, I noticed the game had resumed but Keegan stopped and gave me a small wave and a sad smile. I lifted my hand in return just before Turner drove us away. Every little bump on the road jarred my ankle and I gritted my teeth to keep from whining about the pace he was driving. Surely he must know the jostling was making the injury ache. Clenching my fists in the seat, I saw Turner glance down at my hands and he let off of the gas a little, but he remained quiet. I thought he might’ve asked if I was doing all right, but he didn’t. He stayed quiet just as I did. Folding my arms over my chest, I closed my eyes and let the steady hum of the engine relax me until I felt us coming to a stop.

As Turner shut off the cart, I opened my eyes, swung my legs out and used the back of the seat to lift myself while I held my sore leg up. He came around to me and acted as if he was going to pick me up again. This time I held my hand up to stop him.

Shaking my head I said, “No, I’ve got it.”

“Annabelle, I can easily carry you inside.”

I met his blue eyes. “I said, no.” His jaw ticked and he huffed before he walked into the house.

I gave a little hop, letting go of the seat. Wobbling, I almost lost my balance but regained control and hopped again. I made a few more jumps, grabbing on to things in the garage as I went along. A very frustrated looking Turner stood at the door to the mud room. When I finally made it to him, he looked down at me. He was already much taller than my five-foot-five stature, but when he was standing up on the step, he towered over me. As if trying to intimidate me with his size, he continued to block the entrance into the house. My leg that was currently holding all of my weight was getting tired and I desperately wanted to sit down. Grasping the door frame I gave a little jump and nearly bumped into him when I hopped inside. He stepped back before our bodies touched and admittedly I was slightly disappointed that he did. Shaking it off, I looked at him over my shoulder, hobbling my way through the narrow hall.

“Can you show me where a rag is for the ice? I’m not comfortable digging around your mother’s kitchen.” I turned and started making my way ahead of him.

I heard Turner grumble before he responded with, “Yeah, I’ll get one.”

I noticed the food from lunch was still on the counters and I looked around the spacious room. Walnut colored cabinets lined a U-shaped kitchen set with a beautiful golden hued granite, and stainless steel appliances. There was an island in the middle that had a small rooster pitcher as a decoration. I reached towards it to help balance myself while Turner went to get a cloth. Everything about this place screamed country chic and warmth. If I ever moved out of my parent’s house or redecorated it on my own, this is what I’d want. The room made you feel welcome, like you wanted to sit down and eat a slice of pie and have a cup of coffee. I looked up when Turner came back into the kitchen and headed toward the freezer to gather some ice cubes. I swallowed, feeling the little butterflies making another appearance. Why did he make me feel this way?

When we had been eating lunch, I watched him, my eyes intermittently wandered to where he’d been sitting. I didn’t want to look at him, but I felt a pull to do just that. I was curious about him. He was no doubt the best good looking man I’d ever seen. I watched him with prying eyes as he had spoken to his dad. He was calm—relaxed, but there was an undertone of unease. His blue eyes held a wealth of knowledge and the words that rolled off his tongue were that of an educated man. Turner held his shoulders high and his back straight. I’d never seen shoulders so broad. But then again, as I glanced around the table, every male in this family had the same stature. Turner came across as dominant, those waves that traveled off of him quiet and strong. It was as though little invisible crests moved through the room and wrapped around you, silently pulling you in without you even knowing it. It was unnerving.

Taking another look at him while he moved through the kitchen, I drank in his good looks. He had high cheek bones and a strong square jaw sporting a five o’clock shadow. My fingertips tingled in an odd way, wanting to reach up and brush across the rough surface. The urge to graze a man’s skin was never something that I ever really battled with. And it wasn’t because I had never wanted to touch a man, it was that I stuffed down the desires like an unwanted annoyance. I realized I was attracted to him.

Not good.

As Turner came toward me, I did what I always do . . . remained indifferent. I looked up at him when he stood in front of me, meeting his crystal eyes head on. I felt the dominance coming off of him but I shrugged the sensation off and made a small hop towards the breakfast nook. There was a little table with two chairs and I just wanted to take a moment to rest. Before I was able to get any further, hands came under my arms and Turner lifted me up like a small child and set me on the island. The stone was cool under my legs. I wanted to protest that he had picked me up again without my permission, but the relief of not standing anymore was enough to keep my mouth shut. I saw a small smile quirk at the corner of his full lips, and I wondered if he expected me to say something.

“Lift your leg and rest your ankle on your knee, please.”

I raised a brow. “The brute has manners. Interesting.”

I did as he asked and he gently placed the rag over my already swollen ankle.

“Of course I have manners. What made you think I didn’t?” he asked, confused.

I felt my own mouth fighting off a smile. “It’s just that you have picked me up twice now without asking me first, and then you didn’t even bother apologizing for invading my personal space. So hearing a ‘please’ come from you is quite . . . nice.”

He grinned. “The doctor in me tends to act before considering that I may be being intrusive. So for that, I apologize.”

“Doctor?” I asked inquisitively.

“Keegan never told you?” His piercing blue eyes met mine.

I shook my head. “No. I only know a little about Camden and Dodger. Before today, I hadn’t even remembered Camden had two other brothers.”

His boyish grin grew wider and my tummy did a summer sault. “I’m a Fellow at UGA Medical.”

This was complete news to me. During lunch he had asked me what field I was interested in working. I answered saying Sports Medicine or Labor and Delivery. He pushed me a little further and asked which one I wanted to be in more. I didn’t really know. I favored Sports Medicine, but when it came to having a job, it didn’t really matter. I just wanted to be a nurse and help people. Besides, I couldn’t continue to live off of my parent’s life insurance and investments. Okay, well, technically I could, but I wanted to have my own money.

Clearing my throat, I reached down to take the icy cloth away from him to hold it myself. His eyes followed the direction of my hand before he looked up at me through his lashes. Stepping back and leaning against the opposite counter, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched me. Turner made me nervous with his scrutiny, and I squirmed. Feeling incapable of meeting his eyes, I looked down at my leg and picked at nonexistent fuzz on my shorts.

“So, as a Fellow, you’ve already done your residency?” I asked, trying to redirect my thoughts.

When he didn’t answer, I gave him my eyes. “I have, yes.”

The way he was looking at me caused me to blush. Uhhh, I don’t blush. “In what department is your fellowship?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Sports Medicine.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Wait, if I went into Sports Med, we would be working together?”

“Yes, we would. Would that be a bad thing?”

I looked back down at my hands. “No. But now I understand why you asked. I just don’t think it’s a department that will have any openings when I go apply next week.”

“I could always put in a good word for you if you’d like.”

“No!” I said too loudly, meeting his blue eyes again. “I mean, no, but thank you. I’d like to do this on my own.”

He nodded. “Understood.” Dropping his arms back down to his sides, he pointed to my leg. “You can take the ice off now.”

I glanced down. “Oh, right.” I lifted the cloth from my leg and set it on the counter beside me. I was about to thank him for helping me when sounds came from the back door.

“I swear you two are going to end up killing each other,” Wrigley said to Dodger as they walked into the kitchen completely oblivious to Turner and me.

“Whatever, little brother. Mind your own damn business,” Dodger growled.

Wrigley chuckled and held his hands up in the air. “Hey, man, all I’m saying is, work your shit out. Macie still digs you, but both of you are being stubborn. Just tell her you’re sorry and move on.”

Dodger grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and tilted his head back as he downed the entire thing. When he finished, he tossed the bottle into the trash and pointed across the kitchen toward Wrigley. “I’m going to say this once, and the next time you bring it up, I swear I’ll kick your ass. Leave it, alone. Macie and I are not your concern and never will be. Besides, you wouldn’t know how a relationship worked if it bit you in the ass.”

Wrigley chugged his own bottle of water. “Sure I would. I do relationships all the time.”

“Sticking your dick in a girl isn’t equivalent to having a relationship.”

Turner was grinning and let out a huff in agreement. I looked up at the mammoth of a man that had moved to stand next to me and wondered what on earth he could be smiling about. In fact, I felt weird being witness to this little sibling argument. Donna, the boy’s mother, had taken that moment to walk into the kitchen and gasped.

“Boys, you better not be talking about what I think you’re talking about. There are ladies present and that’s something your mother just doesn’t want to hear.”

“No worries, Ma, the conversation is over,” Dodger replied.

She turned and glared, pointing a finger at her youngest son, Wrigley. “You, mister, had better be wrapping it up if you are having sex. In fact, just stop it! No more sex until you’re married. The last thing I want to find out is that you got some girl pregnant.”

“Jesus, Mom! I’m not talking to you about this.” Wrigley actually had the sense to appear embarrassed. Turner and Dodger smirked at their little brother’s discomfort. “Anyway, change of subject. Hey, Mom, what do you call a guy with no arms or legs in a pile of leaves?”

There was a collective groan in the room. “Wrig, not now,” Turner scolded

He ignored them. “Russell.” He slapped his leg, laughing at his own joke. I let a giggle slip out. In my defense, it was pretty funny. Turner turned to eye me and tilted his head to the side. I shrugged. “Oh man, Belle, did you just laugh? Holy shit, finally someone who appreciates my jokes.” Wrigley came over to me and slung his arm around my shoulder.

My face turned redder than my hair and I looked away from everyone. “I hadn’t heard that one before. It was kind of funny.”

He ruffled my hair like I was a child. What was it about these Brooks boys doing that? “You’re cute.”

Turner smacked Wrigley’s arm off of me and glowered. “First of all, her name is Annabelle, not Belle and second, she was just being polite. Keep your hands to yourself, shithead.”

“Actually,” I spoke to Turner. “Belle is fine, the joke was funny, and thank you for the compliment.” I turned to Wrigley and gave a soft smile.

“Ha! In your face, asshole.”

“Boys,” Donna chastised. Changing the subject, she came over to me and looked at my ankle. “How are you feeling, sweetie? Anything I can get you?”

With all of the commotion going on, I’d completely forgotten about my injury. “No, thank you, though. Actually, I think I’m going to get going. It’s been a long day and I’m feeling pretty tired.”

“Okay, honey. Shall I get one of my boys to drive you home? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I appreciate it, but I think I can make on my own.”

“I’ll drive her.” Turner interrupted me.

I twisted to face him, my red hair whipping around. “It’s fine, I said I’ll drive myself.”

His face became hard as stone, and those dominant waves silently worked their way over to me. “I will drive you home in your car, and Dodger can follow behind us to bring me back here.”

I swallowed down the feeling to comply. What on earth was up with this guy? A girl says no, she means it. At least when I said no, I did. “No, thank you.” My voice was strong and firm. There was no room for budging and I didn’t like his sudden change of demeanor.

Donna piped up, “She’s got it, Turner, leave the poor girl be.” She leaned in and hugged me. It was the kindest gesture I’d been given in a long time and a lump formed in my throat. “It was so wonderful meeting you. Please, don’t be a stranger. You’re welcome here anytime. Oh, and congratulations on graduating.” Her smile was so sincere and comforting. I wanted to pull her back into a tight embrace just to feel that motherly warmth, and then run back into my cocoon of silence. Instead, I reciprocated her smile and thanked her for her hospitality.

Scooting off the counter, I saw out of the corner of my eye Turner’s hands twitch to assist me. He probably would have had his mom not been there to slap him away if he tried. I grabbed my purse that I set on the counter opposite me, and started to hobble my way to the door. A slow burn started up my leg, but I refused to ask for help. I looked over my shoulder and plastered on a polite smile. “It was very nice meeting you all. Thank you again for having me. I’m sorry I was such a bother here at the end.”

Just as I reached for the knob, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “Seriously, Annabelle, I can drive you home. I don’t mind.”

I flipped around to face him. “Truly, I appreciate it, but I’d rather drive myself.”

“Okay. . . um, this is going to seem like it’s coming from left field, but I have to ask.” He seemed to steel himself for whatever the question would be. He took a deep breath, then spoke, “Can I take you out sometime?”

I jerked my head back. Left field was right. How had he gone from being a bossy, dominant male to softening his tone and asking me on a date? I shook my head and met his bright blue eyes that appeared confident and hopeful. “Thank you, but I don’t date.”

His certainty faltered and his brows knitted together. “What do you mean you don’t date?”

I sighed. How do I explain this? “I just don’t date. It doesn’t interest me.” And it really doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am definitely attracted to Turner Brooks, but I see him as risk. In my head, it all played out. I would go out on a date with him. One date would turn into two, two would turn into four and next thing you know there’d be feelings. Once there’s feelings, there’s no turning away from them. Then commitments would happen, and what if something happened? What if he left me because he no longer cared about me, but I was still very much in love with him? What if I got a phone call or knock on the door with news that something terrible had happened to him? I’d never survive it. So I stopped it before it started.

Turner’s eyebrows drew together even deeper as if he was trying to solve some mysterious puzzle that didn’t make sense to him. There was nothing to solve. I readied myself for the onslaught of questions, to which I had an answer for all of them. I thought he would do what all of the men that got brave enough to ask me out would do.

Beg.

Instead, he simply nodded, smoothed his perfect features, and opened the door for me. “Okay. Well, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around the hospital. Good luck on the job search.”

What? No, “Do you even like guys?” “If you would just give me a chance.” “Are you a prude?” “Are you saving yourself for marriage?” Nothing. He asked me none of the questions I’d anticipated being fired in my direction. Instead, it was me that stumbled. Well, this was a first. I guess Turner Brooks asks once and that’s the only chance you got. I couldn’t tell if it was a nice feeling or a bad one that he brushed off my refusal so easily, but, regardless, I plucked a smile on my face and nodded at him. Straightening my shoulders, I moved past him and made my way to my car. I felt his eyes on me the whole way. When I climbed inside, I turned to look back at the house. The front door was closed and he was nowhere in sight. How odd. I would have sworn he’d still be standing there. Shaking off my odd day, I headed home, wanting nothing more than to elevate my ankle while I soaked in a hot bubble bath and relaxed. I was ready for today to be over.