Winter Whirlwind Read online

  Winter Whirlwind

  Part 10 of the Summer Unplugged Series

  By Amy Sparling

  ***

  Copyright © 2016 Amy Sparling

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art from shutterstock.com

  Cover design by Amy Sparling

  First edition February 1st, 2016

  For my readers, who care about Jace and Bayleigh as much as I do.

  This one is for you.

  Chapter 1

  A mountain of boxes leer at me in the dark room. I run my hand along the wall, looking for the light switch. I know it’s here somewhere . . . I can’t believe it’s taking so long to get used to a new house. Finding the switch, finally, I flip on the light and immediately wish I could turn it back off again.

  There are so many boxes.

  I blow a raspberry with my tongue and venture through the foyer and into the living room of my brand new house. Jace and I had picked the floorplan and chosen everything from the paint color on the walls to the types of light switch covers that are in each room. And I still can’t find the freaking switches, even after an entire week of living here.

  Our living room, though big enough to house all of the new furniture we purchased, is currently being swallowed whole by all of the boxes we moved in here. It probably wasn’t a good idea to buy new stuff and move in the old stuff at the same time. But my step-dad, David and Jace’s dad, Gary had both been in town to celebrate our new house being finished and they wanted to help us move. We’d be stupid to say no to free moving help. But as it is now, hardly anything is unpacked.

  Why? Because I suck.

  I smile to myself and venture into the kitchen, my glorious kitchen. We have gorgeous hand-cut stone tile flooring, dark granite countertops and white cabinets that are all empty except for the one shelf that has Jett’s plastic toddler plates, bowls, and sippy cups. The kitchen is my favorite room of the house. It’s immaculate, has a massive kitchen island-bar-thing, and is perfect for entertaining. Now all I need to do is learn how to cook and I’ll be throwing badass dinner parties in no time.

  Although we moved in a week ago, everything is still a huge mess because we’ve been ridiculously busy at The Track. Last summer, I dove head first into Jace’s dream—starting a motocross business. It took a lot of hard work getting the track designed and built, but the business has been up and running for a few months now. His best friend Park, who is also my best friend Becca’s boyfriend, is our business partner. We split everything fifty/fifty, from the business decisions to the money to who has to deal with annoying parents of clients.

  The Track is practically our second home. It’s fun most of the time. We had planned for just a handful of clients when we first opened, and that ended up being a ridiculous understatement. Jace’s first five clients turned into ten by the second day, and then twenty and now we’re at a hundred and seven paying clients. Park has his own clients as well, and together, the boys are raking in cash at record levels. I am so proud of Jace, and in a weird way, proud of myself as well.

  I finally feel like I have a purpose in this little family I share with Jace and our two-year-old, Jett. I have the job description of secretary, receptionist, social media coordinator, accounts payable, payroll, pizza delivery orderer, and my favorite title of all: the owner’s wife.

  Becca helps out a lot, although she’s not an official salaried employee or anything. Her Etsy shop of handmade art has taken off and it’s now her main job. But when she’s not busy with that or college classes, she’s hanging out with me at the Track. She and Park have been together two years now and we’re all wondering when he’s going to break down and propose already. I mean damn.

  Anyhow, I make the precarious journey through the towers of boxes and get to the fridge to grab a soda. I’d left the Track earlier than Jace because he still had some work left to finish up. He’d kindly offered to keep the kiddo so I could get a shower without worrying about him for a while. I stub my toe on a box marked POTS AND PANS and vow to empty out the boxes this weekend. I can’t keep living in the chaos of all of our crap. You can’t even tell how pretty our new house is with all of these boxes in here.

  On the way to the master bedroom, I stop by Jett’s room. It’s the only room in the house that’s fully unpacked. When I’d taken Jett in to get his next round of booster shots at the doctor, I’d skimmed through a parenting magazine. Normally I don’t give a shit about what people have to say on parenting, because in my opinion, parenting is an intuition. No one knows better for my kid than myself. However, in this one article I read about how the best way to handle moving houses with a kid is to pack up their room last and unpack it first in the new home. It said children can get nervous and scared in a new house and if things in their room go back to normal soon, it’ll help them adjust. So that’s exactly what I did.

  I turn on the light and lean against the door frame, admiring my little man’s room. It’s fully dirt bike themed, thanks to Jace’s insistence. Three of the walls are grey and one wall we painted in a black and white checkerboard pattern. Jace likes to joke that one day his son will be winning races and he’ll get very used to seeing the checkered flag waving across the finish line. Then, with Becca’s help, she and I painted these massive letters that spell out Jett’s name and hung them on the wall. They’re red and have tire marks painted in brown, making it look like they were run over by a motorcycle. It’s pretty cute, and Jett seems to love it.

  He still has a crib for now, but when he’s old enough we plan to get him a bunk bed. His stuffed animals are lined up on the bed and his toys are organized along the opposite wall. I draw in a deep breath and enjoy the normalcy of Jett’s room. It’s a sanctuary in a house full of chaos. It’s all neat and tidy and one day, the rest of the house will be just as clean.

  I hope.

  My phone buzzes, making me open my eyes. I’m still in Jett’s room like some kind of dork, but hanging out in here makes me calm. As soon as I step back into the Boxes of Doom, I’ll be annoyed again. I pull my phone out of my purse.

  Jace: I’m taking the kiddo to Magic Mark’s Pizza. Want me to bring you back anything?

  My nose wrinkles as I type out a reply. No thanks. I’m sick of pizza.

  Jace: Want me to bring you anything from anywhere else?

  Me: Nah, I’m okay.

  Jace:You sure? There’s no food in the house.

  Me: We have cereal. I’ll eat some of that

  Honestly at this point, I’m just so exhausted from the day that I don’t mind eating some Cheerios and then passing out for the night. But Jace clearly isn’t having that.

  Jace: No, you need real food. I’m bringing you real food…but it’ll be like an hour. Love you.

  I roll my eyes and reply love you, too

  An entire hour to myself? Nice. I head into our room and close the bedroom door. I know I’m alone in the house but it’s just weird getting naked with doors open. I walk over to Jace’s laptop, which is one of the only things unpacked in our room and I blast some music, turning up the volume as loud as i
t’ll go.

  If our kitchen is my favorite part of the new house, our master bathroom is a close second. The bathroom is bigger than our old master room in the apartment we used to live in. It’s separated into two areas, with two sinks and two closets for Jace and me. We have granite counters, lots of storage space, a built in makeup vanity, and a huge hot tub in the center of the room. On the opposite side of the room is a walk-in shower with glass walls. The shower is so huge you could live in it. There’s two shower heads that pour from the ceiling, which makes it fun to take a shower with Jace in here. There’s never a chance of running out of hot water, or not having enough space.

  I turn on the water and step into the shower, reveling in the soothing hot water on my skin. It’s been a long freaking day. It started with waking up at five in the morning and getting Jett dressed despite his best efforts to kick off anything I tried to put on him. Then I headed to the Track only to find that our printer had broken and it was invoice day. Then when it was finally fixed, we had a ton of people come in just to look around; kids who begged their parents to sign them up for lessons, local business owners coming by to say hello, other riders just checking out the place.

  From the moment I got to work until right now, I’ve been busy as hell. And now I finally have some time alone. I can only hear a little of the music over the roar of the shower head, so I hum along while I shampoo my hair and close my eyes, letting the hot water wash away the stresses of the day.

  A flicker of something gets my attention. I open my eyes and turn around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary in my bathroom. The glass shower walls are foggy and steam rolls through the air, but . . . I had to have imagined that . . . right?

  I draw in a deep breath and go back to showering. And then it happens again. A shadow, a dark cloud crossing in front of the bathroom door, so quickly I almost miss it. Chills trickle down my back and a chill hits me, even under the hot water.

  What the hell was that?

  The shadow passes by the doorway again. I freeze. It was definitely human-shaped, not a figment of my imagination. Oh my god. Oh no. No no no.

  Panic consumes me. The roar of the shower and the tinny blast of music from Jace’s computer makes it impossible to hear anything. There’s an intruder in my house and I’m freaking naked, in the shower, with no weapons or cell phone.

  This is so not happening.

  When the shadow walks by again, I realize whoever is in here hasn’t come into the bathroom yet. He’s walking around my room, probably stealing stuff. Any moment now, he’ll come in here. I need to think quickly. The bathroom is nearly empty, and the only dangerous thing I have is my shaving razer, and that’s not going to do anything against someone bigger and stronger than me.

  I swallow, fear coursing through my veins, as I look around the bathroom. And then I get an idea. Since boxes of Jace’s clothes are in front of the towel rack, I never hung my towel on it. Instead, I’d thrown a new towel over the wall of the shower. Slowly, I take the towel, my heart thudding like crazy. I know it’s not the greatest plan, but it’s the only one I have.

  Whoever is in my room will eventually walk in here. And then I’ll throw this towel around their neck and pull it as tightly as I can. Oh god. Just the thought of it sends a terrifying wave of nausea through me. I can’t handle this? What am I supposed to do?

  I curse myself for leaving my cell phone in the other room. The shadow moves in front of the door. My heart beats so hard I can hear it in my skull. The shadow says something. His voice is deep, but just a vibration that I can’t make out from the sound of the water and my beating heart.

  I grip the towel in my hand. Standing in the shower, I am hidden by the steam on the glass. The shadow moves closer, says something else.

  “Can you hear me?”

  And then I let out the breath I’d been holding. Relief sweeps over me like a hurricane, I lean forward and wipe away the steam from the glass. Jace stares at me from the other side of the shower, a crooked smile on his face.

  I turn off the water and open the door. “You scared the hell out of me!” I say. My voice shakes, and I look down at the towel clenched in my hands, realizing that I’m shaking and it’s not from being cold.

  “Aww,” Jace says, laughing. “I’m sorry, Bay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was talking the whole time but you never answered so I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

  “Ya think?” I say, trying to laugh, but I’m still recovering from the fright of a freaking lifetime. I take a deep breath and toss the towel back over the glass wall.

  Jace wiggles his eyebrows. “You’re sexy as hell,” he says, his eyes raking over my naked, shivering body.

  I roll my eyes and turn the hot water back on. “I’m mad at you,” I say, turning around. “You don’t get to see the goods when I’m mad at you.”

  He lets out a low whistle. “Babe you just turned around, and that view is even better.”

  My face flushes and I slam the door closed, but this time I can’t help but laugh. “Go away!” I say. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting pizza?”

  The music shuts off from the computer and Jace walks back into the bathroom. He leans against the glass, cupping his hands around his eyes to try to get a peek inside the shower. “We decided that Mommy should come with us and get food that she wants to eat, so we came home to pick you up.”

  I sigh, shaking my head even though he can’t see it. He’d done something nice for me and nearly scared me to death in the process.

  “So what do you say?” Jace calls out. “Mexican food, maybe?”

  “Sounds good,” I say, closing my eyes and letting the water run down my body. “Give me five minutes.”

  Chapter 2

  I don’t know what time it is when I wake up the next morning, but I refuse to open my eyes. It’s Sunday, our off day, and the sunlight has already filtered in through the windows so I know it’s not ridiculously early. But probably still early. I don’t care. I roll over and put my arm over my eyes, wanting to stay asleep as long as the baby monitor on my nightstand will let me.

  I drift off for a few minutes and then stir again when Jace nudges my arm. “You awake?” he says in a half-whisper.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “No.”

  “Sounds like you are,” he says, leaning down and kissing my neck. I squirm from the tickle but keep my eyes closed. He nudges me again. “I’m bored . . . wake up.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Not till the baby makes me.”

  “I used you be your baby,” he says, nudging me relentlessly on the shoulder. “Then the real baby was born and I got shoved aside.”

  I roll my eyes and turn around to face him.

  “Ha! It worked!” he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. I tuck into his chest, letting his arms warm me up.

  “I don’t want to wake up yet,” I say, snuggling against his shoulder.

  He runs his fingers through my hair. “I’m not used to being in bed this late. I know I should be happy but it just feels weird.”

  I close my eyes and inhale his earthy scent. I love the feeling of his arms around me. “You work way too hard babe,” I murmur, my lips just an inch away from his bare chest. “You should take more days off.”

  “I will, once the business is more established.” He chuckles. “I mean, I hope I do. For now, I’ll just enjoy this day with you and the kid.”

  “I’m surprised he’s still asleep,” I say, feeling sleep tug at me once again. “It has to be like seven a.m. or so.”

  “He’ll be out a little longer,” Jace says, all matter-of-factly.

  “What makes you think that?” I ask.

  “He woke up at five and I ran around the house with him for two hours. He got so tired he passed back out.”

  I wrap my arm around his chest and pull him a little bit closer to me. “You’re the best.”

  He snorts. “Duh.”

  *

  When we’re all up and enjoying our Sunday off w
ork, I order Chinese food takeout for lunch. Jace and Jett play a game on the Xbox—well, Jace plays while sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Jett sits in his lap, playing with another controller that doesn’t have any batteries in it. He laughs and squeals every time Jace crashes the car on the screen. I lounge on the couch, drinking tea and watching the cuteness as it unfolds.

  Sure, Jace is hot as hell when he’s shirtless, bent over his dirt bike, tools spread out around him while he’s trying to fix something that’s broken. But he’s even hotter when he’s doing little things like playing a video game with our kid. He makes such a great dad. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try.

  The television screen erupts into an explosion as Jace crashes two cars together and Jett shrieks with joy. I smile, and then a stab of pain hits me as I think about my own mom. She had to raise me and my brother without the aid of our dad being in the picture. She never got these sweet moments in the living room on a lazy Sunday. She never got lazy Sundays.

  I stare into my tea cup and remind myself of all of the things that make my life wonderful. I have so much to be grateful for, and sometimes it feels like I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Actually, all of the time it feels like I don’t deserve it.

  “You okay babe?” Jace calls out over his shoulder. His eyes don’t leave the TV.

  “Huh?” I say. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You just sighed.” He pauses the game and looks back at me. “It sounded like one of those sighs where you’re mad at me.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re a dork. And I’m not mad at you. I’m just . . . thinking.”

  “Uh oh,” Jace says, making big eyes at Jett who stares up at him from his lap. “Mommy’s thinking. We should probably run away.”