Blackbird
Blackbird
Lisa Shelby
Lisa Shelby Books, LLC
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Playlist
Acknowledgments
What To Read Next
About the Author
Newsletter Sign-up
Blackbird
Copyright (C) 2019 Lisa Shelby Books, LLC
ISBN: 9781794064195
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the
products of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be
reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form by any means—electronic,
mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without
prior written permission of the publisher, except as
provided by United States of America copyright law.
Except for the original material written by the author, all
songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in Blackbird
are the property of the respective songwriters and
copyright holders.
Cover Design: Bite Me Graphic Design
Editor: Ellie McLove at My Brother’s Editor
S,
As always, this is for you.
Thank you for sharing your dreams with me.
Thank you for going on this crazy ride with me.
Thank you for being my home.
L
1
Huck ~ Now
“Sorry, little buddy, but I don't understand sign language.”
To say the little boy sitting in the waiting room chair across from me is cute would be the understatement of the year. With his little round glasses, his perfectly spiked blond hair and his chubby little hands and cheeks, he’s a welcome distraction. The beige waiting room, complete with standard issue fish tank and magazine racks covered in celebrities and royals has me feeling itchy, but he’s brought a smile to my face and to do that here, in this place, is saying something.
His mom; blonde, attractive and undeniably exhausted, signs my reply back to him and without hesitation, he slides off his chair and is rubbing his little fingers over the intricate details of the tattoo spanning the length of my forearm. The tattoo that represents who I used to be. Who I'll never be again.
I glance up at his mom who shyly apologizes for his excitement, but I wave her off and let her know it's okay.
His little fingers stop tickling the bird on my arm when he looks up at me with the sweetest smile I have ever seen.
I’m not sure what it is about him, but this kid makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I don’t do warm and fuzzy. Not anymore.
"Do you like birds, little man?" I can’t help but want to hang with this little nugget. I mean, he’s wearing a Hulk Smash shirt, the Hulk is practically my spirit-animal.
He looks to his mom who signs my question and he signs something back. She doesn’t get to translate for me though. Their attention is taken when the waiting room door opens. My new friend takes off in a flash to run toward the foot holding the door open. I can't take my eyes off him as I follow him across the waiting room marveling at his exuberance. If only I could muster his level of excitement to be here.
His mom waves goodbye, still shy and when I look back at little mister exuberance my heart stops and my entire body throbs like one big pounding pulse as my heart beats so hard and fast it takes over my body. The owner of the foot has come into view bringing my life to a screeching halt. The little boy plows into her and wraps his arms around her legs.
This cannot be happening.
Her mouth falls open and her eyes, still the bright color of emerald gemstones, are huge with shock and glistening with tears, a smile slowly forming on her perfect lips.
Flashes of the moonlight dancing across her tan skin, giggles floating on the salt air and the memories of us mixed with the sand, surf and sun play like a montage through my brain.
Before she has a chance to speak or engage me in any way, the option of flight or fight kicks in. I choose flight.
It’s all too much.
I never called.
Two years and I never fucking called.
Pretending I don’t see her, like the coward I am, I make a hasty escape out of the waiting room, begging myself not to look back. The risk that comes with real eye contact with her is too great. How do I explain where I’ve been or not want to kill myself when I see the inevitable pity in her eyes?
Seeing her in person is an all-consuming combination of each and every one of my dreams coming true only to crash head first into my worst nightmares.
I dream of her every night.
Her face. Those freckles. That giggle of hers.
But those dreams usually turn into nightmares when her soft sweet features change to pity and sadness as she realizes I’m no longer the man she met two years ago. More often than not, I wake up screaming...begging for her forgiveness. Forgiveness she doesn’t owe me. No matter how hard I try to latch on to the dreams full of paradise, the nightmares seem to leave a deeper mark.
I feel her rushing after me catching a flash of her dark blue clothes out of my peripheral as I all but sprinted out of the office, you know, like a man who doesn’t have the balls to face up to his broken promises. Not looking back, I've made my escape and in seconds I’m slamming through the door at the end of the hall leading to the stairs. The thought of standing in place waiting for the elevator seems inconceivable at the moment.
Keep moving. I need to keep moving.
Flying down four flights of stairs at a fast clip I bust out of the stairwell door landing in the parking garage heaving with anger, just like the image on the little boy’s t-shirt. Storming to my bike, throwing on my helmet and bringing the engine to life, my bike is the relief I’m looking for. She vibrates all the way through my body, rattling my bones. Providing the calm I need.
The clouds above hang low, threatening rain. I could care less. I plan on riding until I run out of gas.
Running away from the pain and the loss are what I seem to do best these days. My bike and my rum are the only things getting me through.
2
Huck ~ Then
“Thanks for the hookup, man. I’ll see you tonight.” Nico and I do our bro-shake, the one we created several years back on a drunken night here in Bali and somehow never forgot.
I’ve been coming to Bali for years. It’s my respite from the intensity of my job and my home away from home. Nico was one of the first people I met way back when. Preferring watering holes where the locals spend their time and not frequenting the louder places tourists tend to flock to, I met Nico and his brother, Marcus, in a bar down a dark alley years ago. We drank, we talked, we sang
songs on the beach. It was an instant friendship.
“I’ll be there and I’m bringing Marcus. It’s been too long since we all hung out.”
“Truer words have never been spoken, my man. I’ll see you guys tonight.”
“Sounds good, dude. Oh hey, don’t forget…”
I don’t hear another syllable coming out of Nico’s mouth because my ears are filled with the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
Her giggle is floating on the breeze atop the sound of the crashing waves just feet away. Turning toward the sound, my heart nearly stops when I take in a sight unlike anything my eyes have ever seen.
Sitting under an umbrella relaxing on a lounger, is simply put...perfection. Long dark hair and even longer legs peek out of her short black cover-up. Freckles dance across the bridge of her perfect button nose and her tan skin would allude to the fact she’s been here all week, but there’s no way I could have missed her if she had been within a hundred-mile radius. She’s laughing with reckless abandon while applying balm to her full pink lips. Laughs out loud as though she doesn’t have a care in the world.
She radiates pure joy and natural beauty.
Nico’s grabbing my shoulder attempting to stop me as I gravitate toward her but what happens next is out of my control. It’s like my body has been taken over by some sort of alien-like creature focused solely on her and the rest of the world fades away.
I’ve only taken a few steps when I’m stopped in my tracks. She’s picked up what looks to be what’s left of a pina colada and she’s trying her damnedest to take a drink but try as she might, she can’t get the straw in her mouth. Her tongue keeps popping out of her perfect lips but cannot seem to find the damn straw. She must be reading something good because I swear, she wouldn’t take her eyes off the page if her lounger burst into flames. Completely engrossed in her book, she hasn’t even noticed me standing a few feet away gawking at her.
The book in her hand has a bold cover and I can easily see it’s called 44 Chapters About Four Men. I'd give my left nut to know what these four men have that have her so transfixed. I may have to jump online and order myself a copy and educate myself.
She turns the page while continuing to giggle but this go around, she bites down on the straw keeping it in place so she can suck down the sugary goodness she had so desperately been in search of.
Fuck me if that straw between her teeth while she smiles at her book, isn’t the hottest thing I’ve seen.
The slurping sound from her straw indicates she’s clearly run out of her drink, but she swirls the glass and tries again hoping to get more out of it. I take this as my cue and take advantage of the opportunity.
“Looks like you’re out. Can I get you another one?” I ask, approaching her chair without thinking, getting an even better glimpse of her.
Still not looking up from her book she replies. “Sure, that would be great. No rush though. Just on your next time around.”
Ha! She thinks I work here.
I must chuckle out loud because she finally looks up from her book.
“Oh, my gosh. I am so sorry. I thought you were Nico.” She leans to the side looking around me where he’s spying a few feet back and gives him a wave.
“Sorry about my friend, Miss Keaton, he was just leaving. I’ll bring you another one right away.”
“Please, for the tenth time today, call me Harper, Nico, and take your time. No rush at all. I have a bottle of water in my bag,” she says sweetly. The voice of a goddamned angel.
“You’d have to put down your book to open a bottle of water. You sure you’re up for that?”
“Excuse me?” My audacity has her lifting her sunglasses up to the top of her head to get a better look at the stranger hovering over her. I’m a goner when her bright emerald greens stare me down with a look that says, Who the hell are you?
Her eyes aren’t just green. They fucking sparkle.
I’m a grown ass man, but there is no other way to describe them. I swear they’re filled with a million tiny crystals that make her eyes shine or better yet, fucking sparkle.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Shit. How long have I been gawking at her? Smooth, Finnegan. Real smooth. She’s still waiting for an answer so I clear my throat and will myself not to make an even bigger ass of myself. Something I don’t usually have to worry about, but this woman already has me feeling off balance. I like it.
“Uh, yeah. I saw you struggling to wrangle your straw. My guess is with a bottle of water you’ll need two hands to get the lid off and from the look of things, you’re way too into your book to put it down.”
“Yeah?”
Never taking her eyes off me, she puts down her empty glass, reaches into her bag, pulls out her bottle of water and places it between her thighs. Her thighs are tan and toned, but there is no way I’m looking at them while she’s keeping her gaze on me. Besides, I already have them memorized. The vision of her sitting under her umbrella was etched into my memory the moment I saw her.
With the bottle between her legs, she squeezes them together and holds tight so it isn’t going anywhere and then with her book in one hand she twists the cap with the other. As much as I want to look down at the bottle between her legs, there is no way I’m taking my eyes off hers. As long as her eyes are set on me, I’m not moving a muscle. She casually sets the cap down on the table and takes a long slow drink.
Her eyes never leave mine.
Her confidence is sexy as hell.
I’m not sure how I’m still on my feet because this woman has fucking hit me like a truck.
“I stand corrected,” I say, admitting defeat. Defeat that is oh, so worth conceding.
“Never underestimate a stranger. You never know what you might get.”
“I promise never to make that mistake again.” I take two more steps closing the space between us and offer my hand. “Huck. Nice to meet you.”
Her head tilts to the side as if she’s contemplating whether or not to take my outstretched offering. Luckily, her contemplation leads her in my direction, and she shakes my hand. Firmly. Confidently.
“Harper.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Harper,” I say without letting go of her.
“Huck, huh?” she questions with her hand still in mine, making no effort to release it.
“Benjamin James Finnegan at your service, but my friends call me Huck.”
“Ah, because of your last name. Huck Finn. I get it.”
“I’m impressed. You’re clearly more than just your water bottle opening skills.”
“Damn straight, Mr. Finnegan.”
She tries to release my hand, but when I give her a tiny squeeze, she stops her efforts.
“Aw, come on. I thought we were friends. Call me Huck.”
“Friends, huh?” she says, sliding her hand from mine and leaving me wanting much more of her touch.
“Oh, I would definitely say we were friends.”
“Okay, Romeo…time for you to go and leave Miss Keaton to her vacation,” Nico says, walking behind her lounger and mouthing GET OUT as he drags his fingers across his throat illustrating how he’s gonna kill me if I don’t get to stepping, but I continue to ignore him, never truly taking my attention from her.
“Harper,” we both say without looking at Nico correcting him when he calls her Miss Keaton again. Neither of us can stop the grins that grace our lips.
“It’s okay, Nico. If he’s a friend of yours, he can’t be that bad, right?”
“Exactly,” I confirm. “So, please, Harper, call me Huck.”
“Huck…” Nico warns.
“Listen, I don’t want to get my friend in trouble so, I’m gonna get out of here.”
Swinging one final blow, she pulls her sunglasses down and devastatingly takes her eyes away from view. She picks up her book and it’s clear she thinks our conversation is over.
Oh, honey. We are so far from done.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Huck
.” She opens her book and looks away thinking she can dismiss me.
She’s not getting rid of me so easily. And if she’s honest with herself, she doesn’t want to either. I can see it in her eyes. Hell, I can feel it in the static electricity in the air.
“Harper, I’d really like to see you again.”
Nico’s now jumping up and down in the sand behind her signaling for me to abort the mission, but again, I ignore him.
“Is that so?” she asks her book.
“I think you know it is.”
“Wow, you always so sure of yourself, Huck?” she asks, finally looking away from her book and making an exaggerated point to call me Huck.
“I just think we could be really good friends.”
“Friends, huh?”
“Great friends.”
Shit! Could you sound creepier, Finnegan? Now she probably thinks you’re some kind of sicko stalker or something.
“Sorry, that sounded a little creepy didn’t it?”
She lifts a brow in reply.
“What I meant to say is, I would really like to see you again.” Her giggle, the one that stopped me in my tracks minutes ago, takes center stage again and even though she’s laughing at me, I know I’m right. I have to see her again. “Listen, I’m going to be back here later tonight, meet me here, over by the bonfire. If it makes you feel better, Nico and his brother, Marcus, will be here too.”
“Sundays? Meet you here at the beach club? This place is a first come first served sort of place and impossible to get a spot at night. I was only gonna stay about another hour before I head back to my room. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back early enough to get a spot. Maybe next time.”