EXPOSED: A novella (Elkridge Series Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  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 One Sneak Peek

  Exposed

  Lyz Kelley

  Contents

  Blurb: Exposed

  Praise for Lyz Kelley’s writing and a special gift just for you.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Author Notes

  Also by Lyz Kelley

  Chapter One Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading: EXPOSED

  More Books By Lyz Kelley

  Copyright

  Blurb: Exposed

  A woman in hiding.

  A past to resolve.

  A Marine to the rescue.

  When a broken water pipe destroys Gwen Keebler’s thrift store, she’s convinced her day can’t get worse. But that same day, her blackmailing ex-fiancé finds her living in the small Colorado town of Elkridge. She’s ready to pack up and hit the road again when a former Marine provides options.

  Retired Brigadier General Dale Bryant has returned home to repair his relationship with his daughter, and his broken, widowed heart. The last thing he expects is to rescue Gwen as well. The sexy storeowner caught his attention the first time they met, but he’s fourteen years older, and she’s his daughter’s friend.

  Yet to truly save Gwen, the widower realizes he must let her go. Will Gwen run again, or will she face her past and fight for Dale?

  EXPOSED is a sweet contemporary romance about a brave woman and a heroic man who fulfill their dreams. If you like heartfelt characters, deep topics with powerful emotional cores, and happy endings, then you’ll love this fifth book in Lyz Kelley’s tales of strength, love, and survival. A 26K words, 100+ page novella.

  Buy EXPOSED to unlock the emotional tale today!

  Praise for Lyz Kelley’s writing and a special gift just for you.

  I’ve got a present for my readers, your very own ebook exclusive: A Soldier’s Wife when you sign up for my newsletter.

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  The Molly: Award for Excellence

  “A writer who will go the distance.”

  “Masterful dialog.”

  “I look forward to seeing this book on the bookshelves.”

  The Sheila: Finalist

  “The story has great bones! The plot is interesting, the characters are unique…there are so many things to love about this story.”

  “H & H are both very appealing and certainly not cookie cutter characters.”

  “Your opening is a grabber.”

  “This is one of the best books I’ve read in a good long while. CONGRATULATIONS.”

  “Prose is sleek, polished and smooth, a near frictionless read.”

  The Marlene: Finalist

  “You have a lovely writing style with dialogue and scene setting.”

  “The sensory details are rich, and I was able to visualize the scenes. I chuckled several times at your turn of phrase and thought they were very sassy and smart.”

  “The plot seems to have it all: conflict, a mystery and a romance. So kudos for creating an interesting story.”

  The Golden Network: Finalist

  “The setting is painted well and the characters are engaging with very different voices.”

  “The manuscript is clean and tightly written.”

  “The manuscript reflects beautiful writing.”

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean, you’re canceling my lease?”

  Gwen Keebler did her polite best not to glare at Randall Clairemont. He stood in the middle of the store with a wooden toothpick sticking out of the side of his mouth, and his belly paunch covering his buckhorn belt buckle.

  She took a step closer to make sure she’d heard correctly. “I signed a three-year lease. I can’t just move my business.”

  The man’s eyebrows lifted in a mocking arc. “Honey? Did you read your contract before you signed? On page three it states the owner—which is me—has the right to buy the lessor—which is you—out of your lease if the property is no longer safe or functional. That pipe broke in more than one place. That means there will be damage to the foundation. It’ll cost me less to tear this place down than repair what’s here.”

  “Don’t you have some other place I can rent?” She couldn’t help sounding like a whiny teen begging for the latest electronic gadget.

  “Nope.” Clairemont used his foot to sweep aside a basket full of scarves and hats that had floated into the aisle. “All my commercial properties are full with long-term leases. You’ll have until the end of the week to get your stuff out before this place becomes a health hazard and I bring in a bulldozer. And, if I were you, I’d file an insurance claim for contents and business revenue loss with your agency.”

  If I had that type of insurance, I just might.

  She swallowed to prevent the hopelessness from overwhelming her determination to keep going. She couldn’t give up. Not over a broken pipe. Her glance swept over the heaps of soaked designer-label clothing, household goods, electronics, and other quality thrift store items she’d acquired by carefully hand-selecting each piece.

  She gripped the counter to keep from pummeling the man with a pair of gently worn Michael Kors shoes. “Where do you expect me to go?”

  “That’s up to you, Ms. Keebler.” The building owner opened the water-warped front door. “I’ll have a check for you by the end of the week equal to your deposit, remaining months’ rent, plus two additional months as compensation.”

  That’s all? Dread welled in her throat again. The closing of the front door sounded like a casket top clicking shut. Second Time Around, her beloved business, was doomed.

  Her body folded under her and she slumped onto the top of an empty plastic bin.

  “I hate to say this, but Clairemont’s got a point.”

  She jerked up to see Dale Bryant standing in the doorway leading to the basement, wearing a flannel shirt with a T-shirt underneath, and paint-splattered jeans that were aged to the point of comfort. The getup reflected the man: durable, dependable, long-lasting.

  “Thanks for coming on such short notice. When Ashley told me there wasn’t a plumber in town, I panicked.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve been much help. I’m not licensed, and neither is my son-in-law.” The tall man with amazingly broad shoulders and a steel-rod posture stepped over a pile of water-soaked clothes while drying his hands on a terry cloth rag. “However, I do know whatever was in the main pipe filled the basement. Even if it’s clean water, there’s most likely mold already forming in the drywall. You wouldn’t want to stay here. Plus, there isn’t a contractor in this town capable of fixing this.”

  “Do you have any good news?”

  The corners of Dale Bryant’s mouth lifted slightly. “The leaking pipe’s been patched, and you don’t have to deal with Clairemont after this week, not unless you want to. I’ve never been a fan of that jackass. He was slimy in high school, and hasn’t improved much since then.”

  “Clairemont does take himself
a bit too seriously, but losing my lease means I’m out of business.” Pain stitched across her forehead, making thinking even more of a challenge.

  “Hold on for a second. Don’t be so hasty. Now’s a great time to take a step back. Reassess. Look at your options.”

  “Options?” She picked up a book puffed to twice its original size and tossed it in the trash. All my hard work is ruined. Her arms flopped to her sides. “General, I’m sure right now you have some strategic or tactical maneuvering going on inside that head, but all I see is a pile of unsalvageable junk.”

  The former general placed a hand on her shoulder. “I reported to a lieutenant once who told me there are always options. Some better than others, but they are there if you look hard enough. And please call me Dale.”

  She tilted her head back to study the expression on his weather-chiseled face. His prominent cheekbones, stubbled chin, and gentle yet all-seeing eyes, coupled with an easygoing manner, exuded strength, a strength she wished she had. There was a reason folks in town referred to him as a war hero. “Do you miss the action?”

  “If you’re talking about working with the troops, oddly enough, I haven’t seen action in years.”

  He rubbed the palm of his hand with his other thumb, whether to remove dirt or the ache of the memories, she couldn’t tell.

  “When I got my promotion, I was ordered to Washington. My commanding officer said I was needed at the Pentagon, but to be honest, I’d much rather have been with my troops, or here. I’ve missed being home.”

  “I’m glad you came back. Your daughter needed you.”

  When Ashley’s mom passed, Gwen put her mother’s clothes on consignment. During the hours of handing and sorting, Ashley had talked about her dad. Gwen imagined some retired NFL linebacker-type, all bulked up with a hooyah attitude. In reality, Dale had the stand-at-attention frame she expected, but with less bulk. His cross-trained athlete’s build, with long, lean muscles honed by hours of physical labor, suited him just fine. The touch of grey in his hair made him look distinguished.

  Too bad he was fourteen years her senior. What would they have in common? Yet watching him lean against her counter in that casual kind of way made her heart flutter like a soft butterfly on the breeze.

  Unfazed by the surrounding rubble, he brought calm into her life. That steady calm must have been a big reason why he’d moved up the chain of command to the rank of general.

  He shoved the damp rag into his back pocket. “Ashley’s an amazing woman. She’s stronger than she thinks she is, and more than capable. She’s given me a son-in-law I can respect, and a grandchild I can spoil. What more can a father ask for?” He leaned in a couple of inches with a slight lift of the mouth. “But I expect you already know that. She has a lot of respect for you. Thank you for being her friend, and lending a guiding hand after my wife died. I’m glad she had someone here to support her.”

  “Your grandbaby’s adorable. Under that pile over there were the cutest red and white polka dot dress, hat, and shoes I saved for her.” She bit her lip and gritted her teeth to keep the tears from falling. “Now it’s ruined.” Her voice wobbled. “I’d better get this stuff sorted. There’s so much I need to toss…possibly all of it if I can’t find a place to rent.”

  “I’ll help, and Chase will be here as soon as he finishes his other job.”

  Gwen’s once-judgmental bitterness toward the general—on Ashley’s behalf—had morphed into tentative respect. She met his unwavering gaze. “I just want a simple life—a place to live, a business which helps people in my community. I was so close. Sometimes I wonder if fate or the universe will ever grant me the simple, uncomplicated life I want.”

  “You’ll find it. A year from now, this will be nothing more than a pothole in the road.”

  “More like a sinkhole,” she snorted with an eye-roll. “Growing up, I lived in a fishbowl full of sharks. I always felt like I was swimming to save my life. You make life sound so straightforward and simple.”

  “Nope. Life is never easy. We can only do our best to find happiness.” Dale picked up a plastic bin and set it on a water-damaged nightstand. “But it doesn’t have to be hard, either. Why don’t you start sorting? Anything you can’t salvage, put in a pile by the door. I’ll load it in my truck and take it to the dump. Chase can load what you want to save and take it to my house to hold until you find a new place. Ashley says she’s willing to wash what you want to keep.”

  “I appreciate the help, but—”

  “Don’t quit on me now.” His voice was firm, yet gentle. “We’ll get you back on your feet in no time. This town needs you. Ashley needs you. I…”

  The nicest shade of red brushed his cheeks, and she got the odd feeling he’d been about to say he needed her, but that couldn’t be true. He barely knew her.

  He ran a hand over the top of his head and bent to pick up the nearest water-soaked bag. “I’ll back my truck up so we can just toss the stuff into the back.”

  For the next couple of hours, she sorted and Dale moved at superhero speed. When Chase showed up, the stuff exposed to water cleared out faster than grocery aisles before a major storm. Dale tossed the last bag into Chase’s work truck and waved him on his way. There was something to be said about Marines’ efficiency. They definitely had what it took to get the job done.

  “Three hours ago, I wouldn’t have believed this was possible. I’ll be able to get the rest of this stuff packed over the next few days. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. The hard part comes next. We need to get your stuff washed and pressed and back on hangers, and find you someplace to reopen your business.”

  There was that serene feeling again. The feeling of being on top of a mountain, the wind in her hair…the conviction that she could conquer the world. An easing breath released the ache in her shoulders. “Chase said he might have the tools to get the cash register unbolted.”

  “He might. If not, we’ll see if we can improvise.”

  She ran her hand along the bottom of a hand-painted dresser. The rippled wood made her incredibly sad, like the time she’d witnessed a trucker accidently hit a newborn fawn. Nothing could be done.

  She needed to move on, but she so wanted to bring her store back to life.

  “With a bit of stain and glue”—Dale pointed at one of the antique bookshelves—“we can salvage some of the furniture pieces. Chase said he has some leftover lumber from one of his other jobs. He thought you might like some new display boxes.”

  “I…I…” Kindness. She couldn’t handle kindness. Not when it was directed toward her. Tears welled and flooded her eyes.

  “Whoa, there. Where did those come from?” Dale took two steps and pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay.”

  She relaxed into his strong arms, clinging to him like a wet T-shirt. Underneath the layer of hard work, an all-male aroma lingered. It wasn’t too musky, and reminded her of the spice markets in the Far East. She nuzzled in and took a good, long inhale, letting the scent and the heat from his body soothe her tight muscles.

  She should have stepped back, been indifferent. After all, he was Ashley’s dad. Then again, he wasn’t that much older, and she’d always had a thing for older men, especially ones who took care of their bodies.

  Her arms tightened, and she leaned into the comfort. She hadn’t realized how starved for human contact she’d become. She missed being held. Feeling a man against her skin. Being close enough to smell the mineral traces of his sweat.

  But Dale Bryant was no ordinary man. He could tempt her, and that wouldn’t do. She had sworn no man would ever control her life again. She took a step back to run her fingertips beneath her eyes to rub away what she suspected was a smear of black mascara, left over from her tears.

  “I’m fine. Really. It’s just been a long day.” When she finally looked up, Dale seemed discombobulated.

  He’d turned a bit pale and didn’t quite seem able to swallow. He shoved his hands in
to his pockets and slowly backed away. “Yeah, I, uh…I should go get my tools from downstairs.”

  Before she could respond, his feet were doing double-time on the back stairs.

  “Holy bejesus.” She held her hand over her heart to calm the clamoring beat and leaned her hip against the counter for balance.

  If a broken pipe hadn’t just thrown her life into chaos…Dale Bryant sure had.

  Chapter Two

  A flash from a cell phone camera blinded Gwen.

  Oh, crap. The instinct to run came a second too late.

  An oversized hulk blocked the entrance. Bookshelves and an antique table ready to take to the local dump blocked the exit. She was trapped.

  Sheer panic cut off Gwen’s air supply.

  She didn’t dare glance toward the stairwell where Dale had disappeared moments earlier.

  Stay calm. Don’t panic.

  “Hello, princess.”

  She backed away from the man and thanked her lucky penny she hadn’t yet packed the register area.

  Shane matched her step for step. She moved behind the counter to create a barrier.

  “I’ve been searching for you.” He lifted his designer sports sunglasses and settled them on top of his perfectly styled hair. “You’re a hard woman to find. I never expected to find you in this hick town.” The vicious sweetness in his drawling voice reminded her of the shrill of a dentist drill. He turned the camera to study the image he’d taken. “Ugly picture, by the way.”

  Her heartbeat pounded a dent in her rib cage. “What are you doing here, Shane?”

  “Is that any way to greet your fiancé?”

  “Ex. You’re my ex-fiancé.” His wool Hugo Boss sports jacket, handmade tailored shirt, steam-pressed jeans, and Cole Haan leather shoes were reminders of how full of himself he’d been since getting a management position at her father’s company. “We should never have gotten engaged.”