Mary Sullivan - These Ties That Bind

Sara was strong enough to control her body and its desires. She’d had a lot of practice. She didn’t need to understand the darkness lurking inside—whatever it was—to know that she didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

“Damn it, Sara.” A thread of desperation rang in Rem’s voice. “Let go for once in your life.”

“No. I did that once. With you. Remember? And I ended up pregnant. You walked out on us. I’ve raised a great kid. All by myself. I don’t need you.”

“I’m not talking about need. I’m talking about love. We belong together. We always have. We’re connected.”

Sara shook her head sadly. “We might have been at one time. But everything has changed.”

Dear Reader,

Remington Caldwell begged for his own story. He first appeared in Beyond Ordinary, as the hero, Timm Franck’s, best friend. The idea of writing about the gorgeous bad boy who had worked hard to reform appealed to me. Where would his life go after redemption? And why couldn’t he forget Timm’s sister, Sara, a gray wren who was hard to ignore?

They’d traveled a rocky road because of one incident that changed their lives forever, that wreaked havoc with their best intentions and with their futures. Sara started as Rem’s little buddy, though. So the only way this story could go, despite having difficulties to resolve, was for them to end as friends.

I wanted to explore the idea that, although every friend we make in life counts, sometimes it’s those old friends who call to us and make us feel like we’re coming home. Throughout our lives, those friends act as landmarks that ground us, that remind us about the best parts of ourselves. When Sara finally comes home, she steps straight into Rem’s arms.

Happy reading!

Mary Sullivan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Mary Sullivan recently moved back into her old neighborhood and is getting in touch with old friends. The joy of renewing these friendships enriches her life these days. Funny how easy it is to slip into those relationships as though time never passed, as though we are still those young children with our lives ahead of us. As much as she loves her old friends, Mary also enjoys making new ones and hearing from readers. You can reach her at www.marysullivanbooks.com.

Thank you, Megan,

for making this a better book.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SARA FRANCK HAD NEVER considered herself a coward, but walking into Chester’s Bar and Grill this evening was about to be the hardest thing she’d ever done. She hesitated on the doorstep.

Earlier today, Remington Caldwell had sent her a note.

Tonight. Seven o’clock. Chester’s. Far corner, back booth. Just you and me, babe. Time for a reckoning.

Rem

To a woman who prided herself on her common sense, the butterflies in her stomach were disconcerting, but she’d been off balance since June—the last time she’d seen Rem.

He’d asked her to marry him…

“Sara?” Her brother, Timm, held the front door open for her. “You coming?”

The scents of beer and grilled meats, and the welcoming warmth of the place enveloped her.

Drawing on the determination that had pulled her through every hardship she’d ever faced, Sara followed Timm in out of the frosty December night, to Christmas carols filling the air and candles winking on every table. Silver garlands hung from the rafters. Fresh cedar swags gathered with red velvet bows covered the walls. A decorated Christmas tree took pride of place on a small stage.

Chester and his wife, Missy, had invited all of Ordinary, Montana, to their first annual Christmas party and it looked as if the whole town had shown up. The sounds of conversation and merriment saturated the big room, but Sara heard little. Rem was here.

Timm went straight to the bar, to visit with his new wife, Angel, who was helping out for the night as bartender and waitress. No surprise. After all, Missy was her mom and Chester her stepfather.

Sara stepped farther into the room and, as though her heart were a compass, spotted Rem in the far corner. Ha. Some compass. It had been slipping since the summer, careening off center, along with her ability to keep focus on the direction her life had always taken and should continue to take, and all of it Rem’s fault.

She started toward him with her tender feelings locked down. She didn’t want or need to be vulnerable to this man.

Someone called out a greeting. She answered in kind, but had no idea to whom.

Rem watched her as she crossed the busy restaurant, the hot blue of his eyes a guiding light.

Don’t look at me like that.

He raised a glass of clear liquid to his lips. So, he was still drinking. What was in that glass? Gin? Vodka?

Sara, I’m a changed man, he’d said in June. I want you to see the new me.

Sitting here in the bar amid the hubbub of a happy crowd, the new Rem didn’t look much different from the old and it proved that she’d made the right decision when she’d turned him down. He’d lied about changing.

He drained the last of his drink. Her gaze followed. With that mouth, how could it not? He’d kissed her that day in June, just before proposing.

Why did that kiss still haunt her? Because it had been sweet and tempting and seductive. But he’d been sweet and tempting before, when he was a teenager, and things hadn’t worked out then. Why would anything work now?

She slid into the booth across from him.

He kept his eyes on her, but didn’t say anything.

Angel showed up beside them. “What can I get you, Sara?”

“We’ll have a couple of club sodas on ice,” Rem answered before Sara could.

Angel nodded and walked away, taking Rem’s empty glass with her.

“When you get a minute, Angel,” someone shouted. “We need another round here.”

“I’m on it, folks,” Angel called.

Sara ignored all of it, her focus on the man who had the power to shift her world’s axis. “I’m a big girl, Rem. I could have ordered my own drink.”

“I know.”

“So, you’re not drinking?”

“Not a drop.”

The scent of French fries wafted from the table beside them. Sara knew she should eat, but couldn’t. Her stomach rejected the thought, at least until she’d finished her business with Rem—whatever this business was.

“Since when have you not been drinking, Rem?”

“Since I got stabbed in the summer.”

Sara didn’t want to think about the stabbing. Instead, she concentrated on the drinking issue. “How long will it last this time?”

“Forever. Those two months last summer were an aberration, Sara, because you turned me down. I was hurting. That was the first alcohol I’d had in six years. I’m over the drinking and the disappointment.”

“Why am I here?” she asked. “You proposed. I said no. What’s left to discuss?”

Rem got out of the booth and she wondered where he was going. Before she could stop him, he sat beside her.

“What—?”

He forced her into the corner, facing him with her back against the wall, and laid his warm hands on her thighs. She knew she should protest, should push him out of the booth because he was too big and too close, but her body craved him even as her mind rallied against him.