(Stupid in Love #3)
Publication date: September 10th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Publication date: September 10th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
Bestselling new adult author Cindy Miles is set to capture the hearts of STUPID GIRL fans again with the grand finale of the Stupid in Love series, featuring Memory and Jace.
MEMORY
Casualties.
That’s how I refer to the guys who’ve had the bad fortune to fall for me. They only see long legs that they wish were wrapped around them, a cat-like smile, and the reckless abandon to take on any wild dare. It’s all a game to me. Show me a bridge, and I’ll leap over the side. Give me a car, and I’ll race it. Give me a heart, and I’ll break it. I always win. I even showed Death who was boss a long time ago.
Or so I thought.
Now, time is running out, and I’m losing fast…and big. I met someone. Jace Beaumont. He’s smart, and good, and I dream about spending days exploring the summit of his perfect lips. But, I’m a grenade. I know I should leave him be. I can’t.
JACE
Study, class, work, repeat. That’s all I have time for. At twenty-five years old, I have a bit more mileage on me than the average college freshman. But, that’s what happens when you spend your youth drinking, partying, and bagging girls like it’s a full-time job. Now, I have goals. There’s just one kink in my plans. Her name is Memory. She’s every guy’s dream girl. She’s intoxicating. She’s trouble. I want to stay away. I can’t.
Excerpt:
“So, you want to know who I
really am?” I asked Jace as I rose to my feet on Morgan’s Bridge. The sun was
gone now, but still light enough to see. Almost dark, but not quite. “Why? Have
you heard rumors? Wait! Don’t answer
that,” I continued. “You’re pals with Brax Jenkins. Since he’s the king of bad
reputation, I’m sure he can single out badasses just as easily.” I winked at
him. “Takes one to know one, right?”
Jace
laughed softly. “Yeah, he said you’re known for some pretty crazy stunts on
campus. A player. Adrenaline junkie.”
“Hmmm,”
I answered. “I guess I’d be lying if I didn’t lay claim to all of those
accusations. What can I say? I love to live life to the fullest.” I cupped my
hands at my mouth. “I’m young! I’m twenty-two!” My voice echoed over the water
and through the trees. I squatted down and shot him a lingering look. “I just
simply don’t allow all of that to define me. You see,” I went on, wrapping my
arms around my legs and hugging them close. With my chin resting against my
knees, I looked at him. “There are many more facets to my psyche than I ever,
ever let on. You know? Keeps me in a sort of shady shroud of mystery.”
“A
shady shroud, huh?” he repeated, and chuckled. “What are you majoring in?”
“Fine
arts,” I answered, and sat close to him. “BFA.”
“And
what will you do with that?” he asked.
“I’m
a self-proclaimed ornamental metalwork designer,” I told him. “And that’s
pre-degree, yes sir. Got a business license and everything.” I flashed him a
grin. “Calypso Designs. I make a pretty decent coin with the whirlygigs and
windcatchers I create in the workshop by the barn. Any sort of crazy welded
metal art statue I can dream up. Calypso Designs, Inc. Google me, why don’t
ya?”
Jace
just kept his eyes on me, and in the faded light they hardly looked green at
all. More like shadows in the mouth of a cave. “Any siblings?”
“Nope.
Only child.”
He
nodded again. “You’re close to your dad?”
I
smiled. “Very. He raised me alone after Mom died. Taught me about brazing rods,
oxyacetylene, how to set up the fuel tanks. Taught me how to strike a torch,
how not to look directly at an arc flash. Taught me…everything I know.” I felt
my heart pinch, because I loved my dad more than anything. “He’s a damn good
man, Jace Beaumont.”
His
teeth were a ghostly white in the dusk. “I believe you, Memory Thibodeaux.”
“Okay.”
I changed gears from the serious stuff. “Here’s the final chapter of tonight’s
grand Thank You For Changing My Belt Date. Then we’ll have dessert. Ready?”
Jace
laughed. “Yeah, why not. Shoot.”
I
could barely see his features now. “Remember how I said this bridge was
haunted?”
“Yep.”
“Well,”
I continued. “The legend goes that back in 1923, Madigan Morgan and Company—not
to be confused with the Morgans of the Morgan’s Louisiana and Texas
Railroad—was commissioned to build this trestle for the Southern Pacific
Railroad. Anyway, Madigan Morgan was rumored to have had a love affair with a
beautiful, beguiling witchdoctor who lived in the woods, just there”—I pointed
toward the forest on the other side of the river—“named Gilly from New Orleans.
Right behind his wife Adelaide’s back. Well, the construction of the trestle
was finally finished, but not before Adelaide Morgan found out about the
affair.” I leaned closer. “It’s rumored she gathered her three brothers and
went after Gilly the witch one moonlit night.” I glanced up. “Much like
tonight, yeah.” I wiggled my brows.
Jace
watched me closely and in silence, and although it had grown fairly dark I
could still make out the amused expression pulling smile lines around his eyes
and mouth. He smelled good. A faint, woodsy, clean smell. Like pine needles,
with a ting of ocean spray, if I had to put a name to it. I continued.
“Well
Madigan Morgan was supposedly to have scheduled a rendezvous with Gilly right
here where we sit, that very night, in the center of the trestle,” I said
softly. “Gilly was a raven-haired French-Acadian Cajun, you see, and had the
sensual power to make a man do just about anything. And he’d fallen hard and
fast for her. Anyway,” I said with a grin, and I looked out over the moon that
had slowly risen, and watched the water lap at the bank’s edges. “When Madigan
arrived for the rendezvous, it was just in time to see his wife and
brothers-in-law binding Gilly’s hands with rope. He started to run up the hill
to stop them, but could hear Gilly’s voice. She wasn’t pleading for her life.
Wasn’t begging for them to let her go.” I reached slowly between the boards
beneath me until my hand felt the heavy-duty nylon rope I’d placed there myself
back in October when Crisco and I had bungee jumped off the bridge. Eased my
hand through the slipknot and grasped it tight, all the while, keeping my gaze
on Jace’s. “She was cursing them,
Jace Beaumont,” I said huskily. “Just before they shoved her off the bridge!”
Over
the edge I went, just as though I’d been pushed by Gilly herself, and as soon
as I cleared the boards I grasped the rope with my other hand and hung there,
mid-air, just beneath the trestle.
And
at the same time, Jace leapt to his feet.
“Memory!”
he yelled. “Fuck! Memory!”
Hanging
beneath the very place he stood, I burst out laughing. “Do you kiss your mama
with that mouth, boy?”
In
a flash, Jace was on his stomach and peering over the edge of the trestle at
me, swinging on my rope.
“Boy,
you look pissed!” I exclaimed, laughing. “I didn’t know you could move so
fast—Jace!”
The
moment I swung within his reach he grabbed me, and let me say that although he
was muscular, he was way stronger than I’d suspected. He pulled me up and over
the trestle, and I barely helped. He did it that fast. And he all but plunked
me down onto the track.
Jace
pushed off and stood, clasping his fingers behind his neck. “Jesus God,
Memory!” He turned to me then, and I could see fury in the shadows of his eyes.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He moved toward me where I was still
sitting on the track, and hauled me up. His fingers encircled my arms, and he
gave me a slight shake, and we were almost nose-to-nose. A muscle flinched at
his stubbled jaw, and his dark brows were furrowed. His eyes flashed. “Do you
have a death wish? Or are you just crazy?”
The
irony of his words almost made me laugh. At the same time, though, I was
touched. I was used to being egged on. Used to being dared.
I
was not used to Jace’s reaction.
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