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  Caught Up in You

  A Magnolia Bay Romance

  Kim Boykin

  Caught up in You

  Copyright © 2015 Kim Boykin

  Smashwords Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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

  ISBN: 978-1-942240-57-0

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Meghan Farrell and Lindsey Stover, the heart and soul of the Tule Publishing Group.

  Thank you for all you do for my Tule sisters and me. Y’all rock!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  Dear Reader

  The Mauldin Brothers of Magnolia Bay

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Shelby Worthington took the long way home from her sister’s destination wedding in Bermuda. Instead of catching a flight back to Charleston and then making the thirty-minute drive to Magnolia Bay, she flew into Miami, splurged on a cute little red convertible rental and drove up the coast. She took A1-A, the old snow bird route, stopping in little beach towns along the way whenever she wanted. The trip was an homage to her late parents, to her mom who loved to go exploring, and to her retired military dad who hated stopping even for a potty break, much less to explore Americana.

  As much as she still missed her parents, she was surprised the wedding hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected. Because it was so far from South Carolina, there were only a handful of family and friends at the resort to watch Shelby’s baby sister, Chelsea, marry her longtime boyfriend, Matt Baker.

  To be honest, there probably wouldn’t have ever been a wedding if Matt’s mom wasn’t sick. Neither Chelsea nor Matt believed they needed a piece of paper to prove their commitment to each other. They thought getting married was silly after living together for six years, but Matt’s mom, Carol, had stage four ovarian cancer, and it was important to her to see the happy couple married. Carol had wanted them to have a proper Catholic wedding, but she’d settled for seeing her son barefoot and married on the pink sandy Bermuda beach.

  With twenty-five guests in attendance, Shelby, being the odd woman out, was only asked forty-seven times over the three day weekend—So, when are you getting married?

  Married? At thirty-three, Shelby had always been a bit of a serial dater. There hadn’t been anyone special since college, and she was quite happy, thank you very much. She loved men and preferred her life to Chelsea’s. Her baby sister had met Matt her freshman year of college and knew he was the one.

  Shelby spotted a sign that claimed The Best Breakfast in the Sunshine State and eased the car into the crowded parking lot. The place was packed inside, with a handful of customers waiting on benches on the front porch. She gave those folks her best hey y’all smile and put her name on the waiting list. A thirty-minute wait would be enough time to check in with her friends back home who were dying to hear about the wedding.

  She scrolled down her contacts until she found Hannah’s number and hit the call button. Shelby owned a cute little shop on Main Street in Magnolia Bay, called Slick Chicks, and her best friend since ninth grade, Hannah Austin, owned Turquoise, an upscale boutique and friendly competitor of Shelby’s store.

  “Shelby!” The squeal was ear piercing.

  “Hi, Hannah. I may never hear anything again, but it was good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you and the rest of the Chicks something fierce.”

  Since she was fourteen, Shelby had been best friends with her gal pals, the Six Chicks, which of course included Hannah. They loved each other to bits and stuck together, even though they’d recently taken Darcy into their pack and there were seven now. Somehow, Seven Chicks just didn’t have the same ring to it.

  “Tell me all about the wedding,” Hannah said.

  “First things first. How’s my baby?”

  “Bella’s fine. She’s chased off the last of the neighborhood cats and is happy to be the only kitty slinking from house to house for attention.”

  “Okay, so my cat has territorial issues.”

  “Your cat loves attention as much as you love shoes.”

  “You’ve got me there. Thanks for taking care of her. The wedding was beautiful. The ceremony took place on the beach under a billowy white tent with giant white chiffon columns that moved in the breeze. There were tropical flowers everywhere in big showy vases that looked gorgeous against the pink sand. And Chelsea was breathtaking and totally buying into the whole ‘Here Comes the Bride’ thing.”

  “With all the malarkey she used to spout about how superficial and useless weddings are, I really didn’t think she’d do it,” Hannah said.

  “Guess that just goes to show there’s a princess bride in every girl because my anti-marriage little sister who swore she never wanted a wedding, played her part to the hilt. Matt’s mom was beyond thrilled. And as much as I adore a Magnolia Bay wedding at the Wedding Cottage or an all-out Charleston wedding at one of the plantations, Bermuda was the perfect spot.”

  “Did they take the plunge?”

  Shelby had shown the Chicks the pictures of the resort that catered to destination weddings. One of the traditions was the bride and the groom decked out in their wedding clothes and jumping off a long pier into the lagoon at the end of the ceremony. The before pictures in the brochure with the happy couple sailing through the air were adorable, not so much for the after pics.

  “They were supposed to, but Chelsea chickened out at the last minute. They did take some amazing underwater photos in the pool the day after in her wedding dress. I can’t wait for you to see them.”

  “Wow, your baby sister. Married.” Shelby knew Hannah didn’t mean it, but the silence implied, and you’re not. Or maybe that was just Shelby’s imagination because it wasn’t like Hannah was married either.

  “Come on, Hannah, I got enough of that at the wedding.”

  “Oh, you know I didn’t mean it that way. Darcy and Miranda are the only ones leaving the brood.”

  “No way. Once a Chick, always a Chick. No man, not even one of the insanely sexy Mauldin brothers can change that.”

  “So how much longer until you’re home? We miss you.”

  “Probably tomorrow. My last stop is St. Augustine; I’ll poke around a bit, and then I’ll be home.”

  “Poke around as in buy shoes?”

  “I didn’t say that, but if something fabulous and strappy calls to me, yes.”

  “Is there a cute guy there to buy those strappy sandals?”

  Okay, not only was Shelby the Goldilocks of the dating world, it seemed that men who dated her wanted to buy her things. The Chicks lovingly called her a shoe whore; not that she put out for a pair of Christian Louboutins or Jimmy Choos. But if the man she was seeing insisted, she had a really hard time saying no. To the shoes.

  “No cute guy. By the way, how’s Stacia doin
g with the store?”

  Stacia was the youngest of their group and a recent college graduate. She’d run Bay City Beans Coffee Shop for the last four years and, from time to time, helped Shelby and Hannah out with their Main Street shops.

  “Oh, you know Stacia, she’s tried everything in the store on by now, and is probably starting on those cute maternity dresses you have on sale.”

  Yeah, Shelby wouldn’t be ordering any more maternity clothes. While she had sold a lot lately to the young mothers-to-be who lived in the ritzy new Magnolia Run section of the Bay, they were too much of a reminder that Chelsea almost didn’t make it down the aisle.

  She’d wanted to start a family right out of grad school; and Matt never said no to her. Being the most impatient person on the planet, when she didn’t get pregnant after a few months, Chelsea was positive there was something horribly wrong. Shelby told Chelsea it was just her hypochondria talking. Unfortunately, Chelsea was right and, six months ago, she was diagnosed with premature ovarian failure.

  Since the diagnosis, Chelsea had been obsessed over her condition and had grieved the loss of being unable to have kids. Not good pre-marriage juju. The last couple of months, she and Matt fought a lot, and if Matt’s mom’s dying wish hadn’t been to see her son married, Shelby had wondered if the couple would even still be together. But any doubts Shelby had were dispelled the moment her sister walked down the aisle.

  There was an epidemic of I do’s that day, at least seven brides flitting about the resort with their gorgeous grooms. It was like a fairy tale wedding day on steroids, making it almost impossible for Shelby not to wish she had a great guy. Maybe a couple of kids down the road. She wasn’t ready to settle down and start a family today, but—.

  “Shelby. Party of one,” the hostess announced to the far reaches of the universe. Maybe it was time for Shelby to change that.

  St. Augustine was gorgeous. The city had 105 years on Charleston and the Spanish colonial-era buildings made Shelby feel like she was wandering the streets of Barcelona rather than a quaint Florida city. St. Augustine was a hundred times bigger than Magnolia Bay, although both were historic towns and catered to the tourist trade.

  She wandered down King Street, and was headed into a cute little store called Shooze when a gorgeous piece in a gallery window caught her eye. There were a dozen paintings inside, a mixture of landscapes and abstracts that looked to be by the same artist. Shelby entered the store and was immediately drawn to a painting of an old building on a dock at sunset. The artist had used some kind of gold metallic paint to make the canvas shimmer and come alive.

  “We’re just now hanging this exhibit; the show’s tomorrow. Isn’t that piece exquisite?” An elegant sixtyish-looking woman eyed Shelby’s Chanel bag that was the best knockoff known to womankind and the Ferragamo sandals she’d been paying off on her credit card for the past three months. “There are two more pieces to go up, and they are spectacular. The artist is here supervising the exhibit, would you like to meet him?”

  “I’d love to.” Shelby was in awe at how the artist had captured the light so that it looked like the shack was backlit by the sunset. She could have spent all day admiring the painting, until she looked at the $45,000 price tag. Yikes. “I don’t want to be a bother; I’m really not in the market now.” Or ever. Shelby would have to take out a second mortgage on her cute little Magnolia Bay bungalow to barely afford the cheapest painting.

  “Shelby? Shelby Worthington?”

  “There’s Declan now,” the saleslady said.

  Declan Enright was smiling and seemed as surprised to see Shelby as she was to see him. The last time she’d been this close to him was the disastrous last night of her freshman year. She’d memorized everything about that night, what it felt like to be in his arms, his body pressed against hers, his scent.

  “Good to see you, Shelby.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. Even after fifteen years, he could still make her blush like she was eighteen again. The hug lasted an eternity or a few seconds, Shelby wasn’t sure. When she was reasonably sure he didn’t remember their last encounter, she stiffened in his arms.

  He cocked his head to the side like he’d noticed, and smiled, and if she hadn’t pulled away, she probably would have stayed forever with her nose in the crook of his neck breathing him in.

  Years ago, he had been her crush, her kryptonite. She’d been a lowly freshman at the University of South Carolina when he was a senior, and he’d taken her into his very cool circle of friends, mostly artists. They’d been friends, good enough friends that Declan was the first person she’d called that night she’d needed rescuing.

  “Declan—. Really good—. Great—.” And without even trying, he had her tongue-tied. “To see you.”

  He smiled and motioned to the woman who’d tried to get Shelby to sell her soul for one of his paintings. “I want to introduce you to Marilyn Grossman; she owns the gallery. Marilyn, this is Shelby Worthington; we grew up together.”

  “Pleasure,” Marilyn said, eyeing a woman who’d just strolled into the gallery carrying a Louis Vuitton purse the size of a pillowcase. “Lovely to meet you, but please, excuse me.”

  And then it was just the two of them. He’d graduated from the University of South Carolina the spring of her freshman year with a fine arts degree and then headed straight to the Big Apple to become a famous artist. Judging from the costs of his paintings and the way the sales woman gushed over him, he had.

  “God. You look amazing,” he said. “But you always did.” He gave her his gorgeous smile that her best friends who had known him since birth swore he’d perfected in kindergarten.

  “You look good. Too.” Her face went hot again as her brain added a million more adjectives. Hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Built. She really had to stop. But Declan had always had that effect on most women with a pulse, especially on her.

  He was a legend in Magnolia Bay. Bare knuckled, vicious girls had fought over him in grade school. When he was in middle school, some of them had actually cried the day Declan’s mom had his long silky black hair buzzed off for summer. Shelby and her family moved to Magnolia Bay her freshman year of high school. By then Declan was the wild boy of the Bay, the Teflon senior who never got into trouble. Nothing really bad, mind you, but he’d made getting off the hook an art form.

  She felt her face go hot like she was eighteen again and he was twenty-two. He gave her a curious look that dissolved into a genuine smile.

  She remembered that smile that still made her all tingly inside like it did back then, and she’d replayed that one night with him enough over the years that she still remembered exactly what it felt like to be under Declan Enright, the taste of his kiss. Now, that rich woodsy cologne smelled different but delicious enough to make her legs feel like jelly again. He cocked his head to the side when she backed away from him. Her body didn’t understand loss any more than he seemed to.

  He’d rescued her on her first day of college. The university was huge; she had different classes than her friends. When she’d walked into the giant cafeteria and didn’t see a soul she knew, she’d bolted outside to a shaded sitting area with pockets of students gathered around patio tables. She was almost hyperventilating with fear when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She’d spun around smacking into a broad chest and then looked up to see Declan smiling at her. Even though she was a lowly freshman, he’d taken her into his very cool circle of friends, mostly artists.

  Shelby was a bit shy, okay, a lot shy or she would have told Declan she had a huge crush on him. So, she’d settled for being friends, good enough friends that he was the first person she’d called the next time she’d needed rescuing.

  She’d never forget seeing him striding toward her on the sidewalk that night; he might as well have been wearing a shiny suit of armor. She took off the ridiculously high heels she’d worn to the party, ran to him, and didn’t feel like she could breathe until she flung her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

  It was
late, maybe after 2:00 am. He’d offered to take her back to her dorm, but Hannah had warned her not to go out with that stupid frat boy who had publically humiliated Shelby in front of a throng of students. No, Shelby wasn’t ready for an I told you so, even if it was a loving one from her best friend.

  She’d pulled back just enough to look at him. “Take me back to your apartment, Declan. Please.”

  His eyes were dark and filled with concern and something else. “That’s not a good idea, Shelby.” The sweet smell of whiskey was on his breath.

  “Why?”

  “You’re vulnerable and I’m—.”

  “What?”

  “Attracted to you. It’s not a good idea.” His rejection made her face go hot and she looked away. “Hey, look at me.”

  Chocolate brown eyes smiled down at her, making her heart beat out of her chest. “God, you’re so young. So beautiful.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Really, not a good idea,” he breathed.

  Since that first day he’d rescued her, she’d loved talking to him, hearing him laugh. She’d loved every moment she spent with him. She loved him. Something she hadn’t even told Hannah, much less Declan. And there he was, holding her, protecting her, soothing her.

  “Please, Declan. I don’t want to go back to the dorm. Can we just go to your place and talk?”

  He’d nodded, hooked his arm around her waist, and they’d walked less than a block to his apartment. She had no idea what she was doing once she got there, she just knew at that moment, she didn’t need the knight in shining armor; she needed him. Wanted him.

  He’d poured two glasses of Southern Comfort and sat down beside her on the couch. They’d talked a long time while she nursed her drink. He finished his, and she poured him another. His smile was lazy, eyes, heavy lidded. She worked up the nerve to lean in and kiss him. She was amazed at how good he tasted, how perfect her body felt against his. He threaded his hands in her hair, deepening the kiss as she unbuttoned his shirt.