Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5) Read online

  Unmistakably Us

  Imagine Ink 5

  Verlene Landon

  Unmistakably Us

  Imagine Ink 5

  Verlene Landon

  Copyright © 2018 Verlene Landon - Rusty Halo Books

  All rights reserved.

  Editing: Twitching Pen Editing

  Cover Design: Blue Sky Design

  Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Models: Jonny James, Tiffanylyn

  Proofing: Angela Campbell

  Final Proof: Dawn Martin-Smith

  Publisher’s Note:

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, resold (as a “used” e-book), stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-0998126722

  Acknowledgments

  This section is always so hard to write because there are so many people who deserve a nod. I fear I will leave someone out.

  Thanks to my badass betas, without them, my books would have gaps and holes you could drive a semi-truck through. They catch all the bad so everyone else gets to enjoy the good. Renee S., Kristy S., Margaret S., Heather A., Viper S., Dawn S., Angie C., and Patricia R., I think I got everyone. If not, I’m so sorry, message me and I’ll make it up to you. You guys really are badass and I don’t know what I’d do without your honesty.

  My editor, Jennifer S., as always, she polishes up my words so people can actually read them. I know what I want to say in my head and she makes sure it comes off that way on paper. Thanks for making my manuscript bleed and me cry. LOL

  Lea, my dear friend, you are the best cheerleader a person could ask for and a pretty amazing friend. A text from you always brightens my day.

  Angela C. for being willing to stalk people for my sake, for finding a Trager that just doesn’t fit, and buying me a cock cup.

  Dawn MS, thanks for being so thorough and finding things when my eyes couldn’t.

  To every organizer who invited me to their events, even if you did it because I begged you, it still counts. Thank you taking a chance on a little known author and letting me play with the big kids for a day.

  Chris S., my tattoo artist, no, these books were not some latent fantasy about you. LOL. However, I am most definitely writing a book, or three, based on the conversation that took place during my last session. Those can be claimed as inspired by the men of Ignition.

  I just have to say, my family rocks. My husband supports what I do and has no shame in telling people what I write. He complains about the costs sometimes, but he seems happy for me following my dream, so I’ll take it. My kids are the best kids ever, sorry to all the other kids out there, but it’s true. It makes me misty-eyed when I see how proud they are of me. I only hope I can inspire them as much as they do me. Brian, Patrick, and Miranda…I love you all beyond measure and hope y’all know how much I appreciate you even when I forget to say it.

  When I say family, I don’t just mean the ones under my roof. My sister-mom has loved me forever and even as an adult; she makes me feel protected and safe. I couldn’t ask more out of a “mom.” I have some pretty awesome nieces and nephews who have amazing families of their own and I am blessed to have them in my life.

  And last but not least, thanks to all of my day-to-day unsung heroes. The little things you do may go unnoticed for the most part, but your impact is felt regardless.

  Verlene

  Dedication

  To the people who know better than to change lanes in an intersection, always return their shopping cart to the corral, and never go through the express checkout with more than the allowable number of items.

  You are the everyday heroes who deserve recognition so this book is for you.

  Unmistakably Us

  Although this book is the complete tale of a couple, it isn’t considered a stand-alone.

  For the richest experience, it is recommended to read the series in order.

  Denial is a powerful thing, but love will have its due.

  January is beauty and grace with the vocabulary of a sailor. She’s been the model daughter for years, burying her hopes and dreams under a mountain of family obligations and skeletons.

  Shaking her ass for truckers in a dive strip club is her one rebellious act. But now it’s time to pack up her school-girl costume and pay the price to protect her big sister.

  A payment she was willing to make without question…before Logan.

  Logan blows into town with a chip on his shoulder and a pretty heavy secret. He learned young that family ties mean little more than broken bones and bullshit. He’s survived on his own this long and has no desire to change that.

  He isn’t looking for love, family, or even acceptance, but he finds all that and more. While he’s still trying to understand that he can be loved for who he is, January bolts like a rabbit.

  Now he has a choice to make, keep moving on or find January and put down roots.

  Even when you turn a blind eye, true love is unmistakable.

  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

  Dear Reader

  News, Giveaways, & More!

  Books by Verlene Landon

  About the Author

  One

  January made the mistake of walking past his table after her shift. Logan grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those seduction-colored eyes. “You going home with me tonight?”

  His palm seared her wrist, but even worse, everything else about him ignited her thong. January Snow Thorne was born at night, but it wasn’t last night, and she wasn’t about to make that mistake. Even though it looks like one hella delicious mistake.

  The air chilled her skin where his hand had been when he let go to lean back in his chair. Still staring at her, he patiently awaited an answer.

  Seriously? Feigning confidence, she finally found her voice. “Does that really work for you? Just sit there night after night ogling a girl, then, out of the blue, you ask if she’ll go home with you?”

  A raised eyebrow and folded arms were all she got as an answer.

  “You’ve never even tipped me. Now you want to have sex with me?” Logan’s silence was really starting to push her buttons; why didn’t he say something? Now that she really thought about it, why didn’t he tip he
r—ever? He tips the other girls and even the bartenders, why not me? Her boots stuck to the floor as she shifted her feet nervously. Focusing on his outstretched, denim-wrapped legs, she tried that Zen crap her sister always preached about. It didn’t work.

  “Why is that, by the way? You never tipping me?” The wooden chair scraped across the beer-stained planks as he rose to his full height and fished out his wallet. Surely, he’s not going to offer me a tip now.

  Logan tucked a twenty under his empty amber bottle, and she took a moment to appreciate the way his shoulders moved and bunched under the worn leather of his jacket when he returned his wallet to his pocket. “Because you’re not a whore.” He spoke softly to the tabletop, and January almost missed it.

  “You don’t tip me because I’m not a hooker, so you tip other dancers, waitresses, and actual hookers, just not me?”

  His chuckle bubbled up from somewhere deep, and it was rich and full. It traveled straight through her ears to her pussy. Damn.

  “No, sweetheart, you never, ever tip a hooker,” he managed to say while he continued a softer laugh to himself.

  “Well then, um, you’re still weird, and I’m late, so see you around…never.” Before she had a chance to unstick her shoes from the floor and turn to flee, Logan was right in front of her, invading her personal space with only his head as he leaned in to speak into her ear. His lips were a mere breath away from the sensitive skin. If she tilted just a bit, she’d know if his lips were as soft as they looked. Whoa, down girl. This guy is a dog, most certainly not the kind of man who stays around to cuddle after he gets what he wants.

  “I don’t tip you because you’re not a whore. When I fuck you, and make no mistake about it, I will fuck you, you’ll know I didn’t pay for the pleasure.” His words just started to register when he nipped her ear lobe then headed out the door. And here she was, stuck to the floor, choking on her tongue, and on the verge of needing a new pair of underwear.

  When her shock wore off, she unstuck her boots then stomped them in frustration. “Ugh, men. Stupid, pigheaded…hot men.” January steamed as she headed toward the side door. She didn’t want to run into him in the parking lot if he were still there. Mostly because she wasn’t sure if she would slug him or hop in whatever piece of shit he was driving and blow him all the way to wherever he took her so she could screw his brains out when they got there.

  Logan was a distraction she didn’t need but she still wanted. A temptation she cursed but desired. She knew nothing could come of it, but didn’t that make him perfect? He most certainly was not the type who lets you stick around for a bagel and a glass of OJ. He was exactly what she was looking for in a fling, so why was she hesitating?

  He was hot as sin, tatted as fuck, and that voice pulled some Criss Angel magic and made her panties disappear when he spoke her name. And those fucking eyes. If seduction were a color, they were it. Whisky and cola. With ice, lots of ice. Brown sounds too pedestrian. I’m sticking with seduction.

  Danger. That was why. He was danger-zone personified. All he would have to do was speak it and give her that look, and it would be so. Consequences be damned. While she was brave in many areas of her life, she wasn’t that brave. Not when it came to someone who could make her forget her place, and Logan could certainly do just that.

  He’s the type of man girls get stupid for. The kind where strong, beautiful women will let a man cheat or whatever the fuck he wants to do and no one could understand why. Well, the Logan Chapman’s of the world were why.

  January wasn’t immune. There was no inoculation, so she would do well to stay away from him. Find another fling. But none will be as exciting, and you know it. “Shut it,” she told her inner voice. But it did make her think. No way would she defy her parents and get involved with someone like him. When no answer popped into her head, she sighed and let all those thoughts fly away. She knew they’d return before long; they always did.

  She knew Logan as two completely different people. But so am I. At the club, he was the raunchy as fuck, smoking hot dude who slept with most of the girls here and was always trying to add her to that list.

  When he was around the Reids, he was someone else entirely. Still hot as Hell, but he never came on to her, never tried to get in her pants, and always seemed to want to get to know her, not just her pussy. They always gravitated toward each other whenever they were in the same place, except the club. Here, she was Domino, not January…and he was another customer with boundary issues, not Logan.

  Maybe if she had met Club Logan before she met Family Friend Logan, she could see him differently, but as it was, he confused and excited the shit out of her. She hated to admit it, but he was kind of her best friend in Florida other than her sister. Their relationship away from the club was easy and natural, but here, it was all chaos and sexual tension.

  Cracking the door just enough to scan the area, she saw the taillights of a Harley heading west and a Dodge heading east, but the parking lot was close to deserted. Just Temptra’s POS and Ruger’s 1970 Chevrolet SS Chevelle. It was a cherry, four-hundred-and-fifty horses, five-hundred foot-pound of torque, and it purred like a kitten.

  Shit, I could stand here on the verge of an orgasm for the second time tonight just looking at that American muscle. Cars were January’s passion. If her parents knew she spent the first two years of college taking night classes at the vocational school too, they’d shit a brick. They’d shit an entire truckload if they knew I moonlighted as a mechanic the rest of the time.

  Her eyes drifted to her baby, parked next to the building. Demon was no muscle car—although, that was certainly going to happen someday—but he was fast as fuck and a hell of a rush to ride. It was that secret mechanic job that paid for him, that, and her boss from Jake’s Automotive knew a guy here who gave her a great deal.

  She still had a tidy nest egg left. January had socked away every cent, including the allowance her parents sent her for proper clothing to maintain appearances. Until Demon, she never spent a dime. In the back of her mind, she recognized it for what it was—a safety net, a way out. Although she’d never voice that in a million years. Hell, I’m not even brave enough to use it for its intended purpose. Who am I kidding? I won’t need a safety net because I will never walk away from my parent’s plan.

  It was that reality that’d had her splurging on the beautiful piece of machinery before her. She’d leave it with John or one of the Reids who could appreciate it the way she could once she was back with the Thornes, walking down the aisle to a marriage that would be the death to the essence of who she was.

  Dead girl walking.

  Funny thing was, Gus had yet to chew her out over her unsafe mode of transportation or unsavory current employment. Maybe it was because she was so wrapped up in her new life with John or transitioning the baby to live with her fathers that she had let it slip, but January didn’t think that was the case. It was guilt, plain and simple.

  Her sister carried way too much guilt over shit that was beyond her control. Shit she didn’t need to feel guilty for in the first place. Gus had lived her life, nothing more. But every time her sister’s gaze held hers, January could see it clear as day. She was determined to assuage that guilt before she went home to face the life laid out for her. A life she didn’t want to live, but a life she would all the same.

  January had been a Thorne all her life, and even if others didn’t understand what that meant, she did. Most people couldn’t even begin to comprehend in this day and age how a grown, educated woman could just lie down and follow the plan of her parents. She couldn’t even comprehend it most of the time. It was so unlike her to not stand up and say no, but she just couldn’t. She laughed at the irony of it all. If anyone else were to try to control her, she’d likely end up in jail for fighting back. No one else had their leverage, so when it came to her parents, she always maintained proper decorum as she was taught. Obey your parents.

  So, January would enjoy her time here with her sister. Sh
e would savor the freedom of dancing, even if it was topless. The freedom of the open road, laughter, and maybe even a fling, but she would convince Gus she was going back to a life she wanted. She would ensure her sister released the guilt she was clinging to about it, and they would all live happily ever after. Well, everyone else will, I’ll simply exist. I’ll bear children for a man I could never love, be obedient for parents who never understood how to love, and never feel what it’s like to truly be loved.

  “Do you want me to walk you out, Domino?” The bouncer’s voice pulled her from her depressing thoughts.

  “No thanks, Ruger. My bike’s right here.”

  His chuckle was deep and rich. Ruger was a big man—a plus in a bouncer—named for his guns, and not the kind that fired bullets. As big as he was, he was a teddy bear. A complete sweetheart who looked out for all the girls at Pole Position. “I know, but just because you’re cute, tiny dancer, doesn’t make the sidewalk motorcycle parking. But, I’ll look the other way just this once. You be safe now, and text me when you get home.”

  It was the same every night. Ruger joked, but he didn’t mind her using the sidewalk to park; he never did. “Will do, goodnight.”

  January stepped out into the humid early morning weather and took a deep, cleansing breath. She was going to miss the scent of salt. After strapping her Coach bag to the sissy bar, she donned her helmet, fired up the tunes, and rocketed out of the lot and down the road.