A Love Like Ours Read online

  A Love Like Ours

  Tory Baker

  Copyright © 2020 by Tory Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Presley

  2. Lincoln

  3. Presley

  4. Lincoln

  5. Presley

  6. Lincoln

  7. Presley

  8. Lincoln

  9. Presley

  10. Lincoln

  11. Presley

  12. Lincoln

  13. Presley

  14. Lincoln

  15. Presley

  16. Lincoln

  17. Presley

  18. Lincoln

  19. Presley

  20. Lincoln

  21. Presley

  22. Lincoln

  23. Presley

  24. Lincoln

  25. Presley

  26. Lincoln

  27. Presley

  28. Lincoln

  29. Presley

  30. Lincoln

  31. Presley

  32. Lincoln

  33. Presley

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  Author Links

  Also by Tory Baker

  Dedication

  To all the best friends that are more like family, this is for you!

  1

  Presley

  Getting ready for a girls’ night out shouldn’t be this difficult, I’m exasperated trying to find the perfect outfit for our monthly night out. One where Lyla, Callie, and I let our hair down, drink a few glasses of wine and catch up. Something we missed out on last month, not that I’m complaining, but this time it’s my choice. We change things up every time we go out, but for some reason, we always wind up at Maverick’s Place. So, today when the girls and I were talking, I suggested we just grab some food at home and then head to our usual haunt. There’s nothing better than a live band, a breeze from the water, and downing our drinks.

  We usually grab an Uber or one of our parents will pick us up. Nine times out of ten though, it’s an Uber. We all hate to drag our parents out at closing time. Then we make our way to one of our places — we all live within twenty minutes of each other, but in different directions of town.

  We girls learned during our college years, we’re best friends until it comes to living with one another, we like our space. Not that there is anything wrong with that, we lasted our whole way through college together. Sure, we had our fights, but we also made the most amazing memories ever.

  Our mothers are best friends, they made a pact long ago to live near each other and raise their children together. I couldn’t be more thankful for that, even if we wanted to wring each other’s neck sometimes.

  Shaking my head, I get back to the task at hand, finding something to wear. Do I want to go with a dress, skinny jeans, or a skirt? The weather is perfect for just about anything, but even with a closet full of clothes there’s nothing standing out that I want to wear.

  Walking away, I turn around and flop down face first on my bed. I don’t care if it messes up my makeup or my hair.

  The reason for all of this turmoil? A man, of course it is. I mean who cares if Lincoln has given me those looks, yet doesn’t follow through. I really thought it was a figment of my imagination, but when the girls noticed it too, well, I knew it wasn’t just me.

  “Ugh,” I groan out loud, lifting my head up and flipping over so I’m on my back. My thoughts go back to Lincoln, the way his grin had me more than hooked. The chestnut hair that is always messily tousled, arms that are strong, so strong it’s what we girls call “arm porn”, plus there are these intricately designed lines tattooed along both of his forearms, that disappear under his shirt. I’d love to know just how far up they travel.

  He’s been the focal point in not only my dreams, but also my fantasies for months now.

  I finally get up, knowing just what to wear. I remember what I wore the first time he gave me a glimpse of a smile that he never seems to give anyone else.

  2

  Lincoln

  It’s been six months since I’ve walked into the small town of Shiloh, bought this place, and turned Maverick’s Place into a success. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking about moving all the way across the country to a small town that’s mainly along the intracoastal waterway. Yet, when I was looking online, the bar popped up and I saw the potential and something solid to invest in.

  Not to mention, I needed a change in life and pace. Helping my dad run his multi-million-dollar construction company was slowly wearing down my thirty-three-year-old self. Sure, the money was great, but the hours were long and not being my own boss sucked. It wasn’t my passion, so I was smart during my time with the family owned business. I socked money away, invested wisely, and was able to buy Maverick’s Place with cold hard cash. My parents didn’t have any hard feelings when I told them my dream. They whole-heartedly accepted my decision, and I’m thankful as hell for that.

  Walking into my place, seeing the lights, the dance floor, the pool tables to one side, and it’s packed. Even though we’re only open four nights a week, it’s slammed every single moment. I thought about opening it an extra night a week, but profit is good, and it gives me the opportunity to have the down time I desperately needed just a year ago.

  I may be the boss, but I have no problem pulling my weight behind the bar when we’re busy, something that looks like it is tonight. The back patio looking out to the water is full of paying customers and so is the inside.

  “You need help out here?” I ask Carmine. He’s manning the bar along with Angela.

  “Hey, Linc. Nah, we’re good right now. We may in an hour or so,” he replies while mixing a few cocktails.

  “Sounds good, I’ll be in the office. Holler if you need me,” I rap my knuckles along the bar, then start to make my way to the stairs that lead up to my office.

  Taking one last look around, hoping to get a glimpse of the woman that somehow makes my heart beat more than any adrenaline rush I could ever get from jumping out of an airplane.

  “Fuck,” I murmur to myself.

  “You probably shouldn’t talk to yourself like that, I hear it’s bad for your health,” a husky voice says to me, shocking the hell out of me that I didn’t hear or feel someone’s presence this close to me.

  I whip my head around, and if today isn’t my lucky day then I don’t know when it would be. It’s that moment you take your chance to play the lottery. That’s how perfect this moment is.

  Looking down into beautiful deep grey eyes, eyes that haunt my every waking moment. Presley’s a good head and shoulders shorter than me, even in the tall as fuck shoes she’s wearing. My gaze lingers on her eyes for a long time until I take her in, she’s the whole god damn package. Her legs, I swear she’s all fucking legs, smooth, tan, and my imagination takes over on all the ways I want them wrapped around me.

  Taking my time, I allow myself to take her all in, the way her shirt is showing a small glimpse of skin of her stomach and breasts I know I want in my hands and mouth. Her hair is long, that has different colors of brown and blonde. One of my fantasies is having my fist wrapped around her long locks as I guide her mouth to my now throbbing cock.

  I finally move back to her face, lips that I know once I have a taste of, I’ll never let go, and that’s why I haven’t pursued her yet. Excuse after excuse, that’s what I made. But seeing Presley here right now and in front of me, I know I’ll be going after her, and
I’ll be doing that tonight. I don’t want any other asshole thinking she’s available.

  3

  Presley

  I didn’t think what I was wearing was too revealing or would garner this much attention from Lincoln, but the way his tongue came out to lick the top of his lip, I may as well be naked standing in front of him.

  “Presley,” he croons.

  “Lincoln,” I reply a little breathless. He’s in his customary jeans, dark washed and worn out in all the right ways, with his black polo with Maverick’s Place embroidered on it.

  “What are you doing in this dark corner?” he asks.

  “Heading towards the back deck. Lyla and Callie got here before I did. It’s crazy here tonight,” I string my words together, barely. I didn’t come this way to get his attention. No way, that would be on the verge of stalker like status.

  “I’ll walk you out, it seems like we get busier with every passing week. Stay out of dark corners though, even in a small town, you never know what someone is capable of,” his hand lands on my lower back. I wouldn’t think I had too much of an effect on him, yet Lincoln’s warm hand is against my bare skin. My shirt may show some skin, but not enough unless you purposely move it, and that’s exactly what Lincoln does. Add that into the way he’s kneading my back, I think he’s finally making a move.

  “Your hands are amazing,” I all but moan. He stops in his tracks. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

  “You can’t say shit like that right now, Presley. Not when I can’t have you in my arms,” he responds.

  “Oh, well…um, okay. I’ll just get back to the girls,” I turn to move away from Lincoln. His arms come around my waist from behind, his chin on my shoulder.

  “Not what I meant, Presley. You deserve more than a quick fuck in a crowded room. I want to take you out, get to know you better, and show you just how I plan on making you mine,” he states.

  “Wow,” I’m struck speechless, I didn’t think he really saw me, well, not that much at least.

  “Presley,” he groans, “I’m going to walk you to your girls, let you have your night with them. Then later on, when you’re home, all curled up in bed, where I want to be, I’ll call you. But, gorgeous, it’ll be late. So, unless you don’t want what I do, let me know now.”

  “Okay, I guess you’ll need my number then?”

  “Babe, when a man knows what he wants, he goes after it. That being said, I already have your number,” he claims, and then he moves me towards the back deck, towards Lyla and Callie. His hand back on my lower back, me trying not to moan as he continues his assault on my body.

  When we get there, I see the girls have ordered a bottle of wine, and we each have a glass poured. The shock on their faces though, that says it all.

  “Thanks, Lincoln,” I turn towards him once we get to the table, taking a chance, I give him a quick peck on the cheek. He doesn’t let me move though, oh no. Not Lincoln, he turns his head and his lips find my own. It’s not an aggressive kiss, not the way I thought it would be after what he said back inside, no, this is sweet, savory, and short.

  “You’re welcome, Presley. Ladies enjoy your night,” he nods his head to the girls, gives me one last glance, and then leaves.

  “Spill it, right freaking now,” Lyla exclaims.

  “Yes, we need all the tea,” Callie states.

  I tell them what happened, and we spend our night drinking wine and gossiping. It’s a hell of a combination, but it’s tradition, and it’s something we don’t mess around with.

  4

  Lincoln

  It’s three o’clock in the morning before I’m settled back home and lying in bed. My phone is in the palm of my hand, trying to decide if it’s too late to call Presley or not.

  After I made my open play for her, making sure the other men looking at her with their tongues basically panting after her, and letting them know Presley is mine. The best part of all of this is Presley didn’t see the looks the damn bastards were giving her.

  After that, I stayed secluded in my office. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be out on the floor. I knew my body would gravitate towards her and nothing would get taken care of. Locking myself in my office was the right thing to do. Even if my heart and body protested against it.

  Instead of calling her, just in case she’s asleep, I text her.

  Me: You up?

  I wait to see if she responds, not really expecting her to be. It’s late as hell and I didn’t think it would be this late when I got home, but we had a few stragglers that couldn’t find a way home. I did what any responsible bar owner would do, I called them an Uber.

  Presley: Who’s this?

  I don’t bother with a response. I do the one thing I’ve been aching to do all night. I call her, the phone rings once, then twice. It has me thinking she may not answer her phone, when her voice comes over the line, “Hello.”

  “Presley,” I all but groan out. Her voice is on the husky tone and I find myself wanting to see, hear, and feel what she looks like all soft and laid out in her bed.

  “Hi, Lincoln,” she lets out a yawn. I feel even more like an ass for calling her this late at night.

  “I won’t keep you long, I know you’re tired. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safe and sound.”

  “Oh yeah, Lyla’s parents picked us up around midnight. I was going to say goodbye, but I didn’t see you anywhere,” she says sleepily.

  “I was up in the office, baby. Make sure you save this number, anytime you want to see me I’ll be there,” I respond, my own body starting to pull me under.

  “I’d like that, I’m going to let you go. I know you had a long night, and well, I’m tired myself. I really did like seeing you tonight, though,” her sweet voice coming through the line. It has me thinking all kinds of impure thoughts.

  “I liked seeing you, too. I have tomorrow off. I’ll call you when I’m up for the day. We can get together, do something. Just the two of us?” I question.

  “I’d really like that. Talk to you, well uh…later today then,” she says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, you will. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

  “Goodnight, Lincoln,” I wait to hear the phone click off, then I put my phone away myself, and drift off to sleep with the thought of Presley in my arms.

  5

  Presley

  I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was start a group call with Lyla and Callie. The best thing our parents ever did for us was make sure we stayed friends from the time we were infants and see it through, even in our emotional teenage years. Heck, even each of our moms were best friends. It’s the most natural thing.

  “Did he call?” Lyla questions before she even says hello.

  “Hi Lyla. Hey Presley, how is your morning?” I start with a smart aleck reply.

  “You guys,” Callie referees, seeing how she’s the mom in the group, she always tries to make things copacetic, she even did the same thing growing up, it’s part of what makes her an amazing mom.

  “Well, this question is important,” Lyla grouses.

  “He called, we even tentatively made plans for today.” Thinking about Lincoln has me going silent for a moment. I semi listen to Callie and Lyla going back and forth about their day. Apparently, Callie’s princess is asking to see Auntie Lyla. For the most part, my head is in the clouds thinking about Lincoln.

  “We’ve lost her,” Callie groans this time around.

  “She’s in la-la land,” Lyla admonishes.

  “Candy land?” I hear questioned, and that snaps me out of my stupor when I hear Clairabella in the background.

  “You guys, I’m here. Geez, give a girl a minute to bask in the moment of the hottest guy in Shiloh to ever call me.” My nerves are starting to show. I’m naturally a quiet and reserved person, but something about Lincoln brings me out of my shell.

  “Just checking, well I’m off to the parental unit’s house today. Something about Dad wantin
g to get the grill fired up for the Spring. Keep me up to date on all things Presley and Lincoln. Callie, I’ll see you and the princess in a little bit,” Lyla says in one breath. I swear that girl can talk a million miles a minute.

  “Yeah, I’m heading to the grocery store for the upcoming week, oh joy! I’ll see you afterwards. You know Clairabella wouldn’t miss shopping for the world, even if it is just for food,” Callie responds with sarcasm dripping in her voice.

  “I will, love you guys. Talk to you tonight or in the group chat. Whichever comes first,” I say.

  “Love you too,” that comes from Lyla.

  “I guess I love you two knuckle heads too,” Callie responds, we all click off.

  I make my way out of my bedroom and into my living room. I do all of my housework Saturday mornings, because I like to be lazy Sunday, unless I get called to dinner at my parents’ house. That won’t be happening today, though, they’re out looking for new patio furniture in the next town over.

  It’s too late for breakfast, which I’m thankful as ever for. The thought of breakfast food on any given day is enough to make me gag. My dad would always shake his head when I’d eat a sandwich or leftover pizza for breakfast, he never said anything though, knowing full well I get it from his wife.