All For You (Rocktown Ink #5) Read online

  All For You

  Rocktown Ink, Book 5

  Sherilee Gray

  Copyright © 2021 by Sherilee Gray

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: Karen Grove

  Proofreading: Judy’s Proofreading

  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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All For You - Sherilee Gray - 1st ed

  ISBN

  Kindle: 978-0-473-56192-5

  Epub: 978-0-473-56191-8

  Contents

  About

  Also by Sherilee Gray

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Sherilee Gray

  About

  Another loss. Another goodbye.

  I was looking for an escape from the pain, I found it in a crowded bar—in a pair of hungry blue eyes. One perfect night with a sexy, tattooed stranger. No names. No promises. No messy emotions.

  Except Mase Parker is no stranger. My one-night stand is the new sheriff in town—the same unreasonable jackass I’ve been talking to for months while I redecorated his house…and my best friend’s, recently divorced, older brother. I should stay away from him, we decided it was for the best. So why can’t we keep our hands off each other?

  And when Mase makes it clear he wants all of me, I know it’s time to hitch my trailer and head out of town, because staying would mean risking my heart—but another goodbye might break it completely…

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  Also by Sherilee Gray

  Rocktown Ink:

  Beg For You

  Sin For You

  Meant For you

  Bad For You

  All For You

  * * *

  Knights of Hell:

  Knight’s Seduction ~ FREE Prequel Novella

  Knight’s Redemption

  Knight’s Salvation

  Demon’s Temptation

  Knight’s Dominion

  Knight’s Absolution

  Knight’s Retribution

  * * *

  The Smith Brothers:

  Mountain Man

  Wild Man

  Solitary Man

  * * *

  Lawless Kings:

  Shattered King

  Broken Rebel

  Beautiful Killer

  Ruthless Protector

  Glorious Sinner

  Merciless King

  * * *

  Boosted Hearts:

  Swerve

  Spin

  Slide

  Spark

  * * *

  Axle Alley Vipers:

  Crashed

  Revved

  Wrecked

  * * *

  Black Hills Pack:

  Lone Wolf’s Captive

  A Wolf’s Deception

  * * *

  Stand Alone Novels:

  Breaking Him

  Chapter One

  Trixie

  My car idled at the crossroads, indicator tick, tick, ticking to turn left. The headlights of my gran’s clearwater aqua green ’67 Ford Mustang lighting up the sign pointing to Rocktown.

  Fifty-five miles. I’d be home in less than an hour.

  My stomach gripped tight. I didn’t want to go back. Not yet.

  Seeing my friends, hearing their words of sympathy, the looks and hugs… The pity. I couldn’t face it, any of it. I loved my friends. They were the absolute best. And they were going to be upset when they found out Gran had died and I hadn’t told them.

  This was something I needed to do on my own, though.

  I couldn’t share, not yet. The pain was too raw, too all-encompassing.

  And the guilt? I sucked in a desperate breath. Yeah, I was drowning in it.

  If Lila or Everly hugged me… If Addy tried to feed me while Cassy mothered the hell out of me, or worse, Quinn looked at me with those big gray eyes swimming with tears, I’d lose it. I’d shatter, and I didn’t have the strength right now to put myself back together.

  The letter Gran left for me with her final wishes…god, every word was etched on my mind. I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  A heavy beat rolled out of the bar across the street from me, along with the muffled sound of someone singing. I glanced over. I just…I needed to lose myself, to shut it all out. I could do that in a room full of strangers.

  I’d driven through this tiny town many times, but I’d never stopped before.

  No one knows you here.

  For a short time, I wouldn’t have to be me.

  The last Faraday standing, the last woman, anyway—and so alone I wasn’t sure how to breathe anymore.

  Wrenching the wheel to the right, I drove into the parking lot, parked Veronica—my gran’s name for the car—grabbed my purse, climbed out, and paused, looking down at myself. I wasn’t exactly dressed for a bar, but then I wasn’t exactly dressed for a funeral either.

  The off-the-shoulder, bright red vintage dress clung to my boobs, flared out at my waist in layers of tulle, and stopped mid-calf. It had belonged to Gran, one of the many items of clothing she’d given me over the years and one of her favorites. She’d told me more than once she wanted me to wear it to her funeral.

  None of this dreary all-in-black bullshit, Trix.

  Her voice echoed through my mind, and my heart cracked a little more. I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin—

  Lily Allen’s “Fuck You (Very Much)” echoed around the parking lot, stopping me mid-step.

  Scowling, I yanked my phone from my purse. It was Mason Parker—Mase to his friends and family—and the last person I wanted to talk to right now. I’d never met the guy in person, but I’d been forced to deal with him for three torturous months while I redecorated the Parker family home. Quinn’s surly, older brother was an arrogant control freak and drove me up the goddamn wall on the daily.

  Shit, I gripped the phone tighter. I’d completely forgotten he was going to be in Rocktown this weekend, and since all the old flimsy locks on the house had recently been replaced, I was the only one with the new keys to get in.

  Wincing, I hit end, ignoring it, and seconds later my phone beeped, letting me know I had a new message. Awesome. Against my better judgement, I called it up.

  Low growl. “Yeah, Trixie, it’s me. We agreed to meet today, yes?” His deep, raspy voice echoed down the line. “Waited at the house for an hour and you didn’t bother to show, so not only could I not get into my own damned house, I couldn’t take a look at the wiring like I’d specifically come home to do, so thanks for that.” Silence. Muttered curse. “Call me back.”

  Not freaking likely.

  T
ingles danced over my scalp, something that happened a lot when I listened to that jackass’s voice. I mean, he had a great voice, too bad about the personality. He probably looked like a toad, short with a paunch from too many donuts. Maybe one of those bushy handlebar mustaches like the old sheriff had.

  Yes, Quinn was hot, but that didn’t mean her dickish brother had been blessed with the same awesome genes.

  I shoved my phone back in my purse and shook it off. There was nothing I could do about it now.

  Quinn was the best—funny, warm, loyal. Her brother was a nightmare.

  Mase was newly divorced—big surprise there—and moving home to Rocktown after being offered the job of sheriff. Since Quinn had been kind enough to offer me a place to park my trailer when I needed one—and Gran and I had painted and wallpapered houses to make money while we traveled around—I’d offered up my services.

  The house had been the Parker family home, and when her dad moved away, Quinn lived in it until she shacked up with her husband, Bull. Now Mase would be living there. The place was pretty but tired.

  Quinn had passed on my offer to her brother, and he’d accepted. He’d been a thorn in my butt ever since.

  Shoving that jackass out of my head, I marched up to the bar and yanked the door open. A wave of sound and heat hit me instantly. Laughter and singing, loud music—loud enough I wouldn’t have to think, that I could ignore the emotions trying to drag me under.

  The barman gave me a once-over and smiled.

  “Martini, please, extra olives.” My gran’s tipple of choice.

  I glanced at the stage. Not a band. Karaoke.

  My drink was put in front of me a few minutes later. I thanked the guy, ate the olives, downed the drink, and marched over to pick my song.

  Tonight wasn’t for wallowing, or crying. Tonight, I was celebrating my gran, her amazing life full of color and laughter. She’d been a risk taker. She’d grabbed hold of whatever happiness came her way and ran with it. And when it stopped making her happy, she kept on running until she found more. More goodness, more joy, however it came.

  I lived my life like her, or at least tried to, hard not to when she’d been the one stuck raising me and my older brother, Ross. My mom had preferred partying to raising kids and had chosen one useless asshole after another over us. I don’t think there was a single promise she kept. She died when I was fifteen, and now Ross was the one who broke promises.

  He hadn’t even called to say he wouldn’t make the funeral. My brother just…didn’t show up.

  If it hadn’t been for Gran? I didn’t like to think what my life would have been like.

  Gran had been my world. My everything. And I’d completely and utterly adored her.

  She’d been a singer and dancer when she was young, performing at clubs in front of huge crowds. This dress was one she’d worn on stage. Tonight, I would sing, no matter how badly, for her.

  I smiled at the guy in charge of the karaoke machine and grabbed the songbook, flicking through. An image of me and Gran in her car, singing while we ran to the next pocket of happiness, filled my head. Her wide smile as she cranked up the stereo.

  When I was sad, Gran would tell me to sing away my feelings.

  Sing, Trix, sing until there’s nothing but you and the music.

  My eyes stung, and I blinked rapidly, forcing back the pain.

  “You know what you want to sing?” the guy asked.

  I forced a bright smile. “Yep.” I pointed to my song and slid the book back to him.

  “There’s just three ahead of you. Name?”

  “Call me whatever you want.”

  He raised a brow.

  I walked away, because I didn’t want to be me. And yeah, maybe it didn’t make sense, but today my gran’s voice was so clear in my mind, like she was still there close to me, saying my name, and I didn’t want to hear anyone else say it. But I knew from experience, there was no making sense of grief, and I wasn’t going to try now.

  The barman slid another martini in front of me when I returned to my seat. I smiled. “Are you a mind reader?”

  He shook his head and tilted it. “From the guy at the end of the bar.”

  I glanced in the direction of the head tilt.

  There were two men standing there, but going by the distance between them, they were obviously not together.

  On the left was an elderly gentleman with a kind, weathered face.

  And on the right—

  Holy shit.

  Was a tall, muscular, tattooed…god.

  Neither of them were looking at me or acknowledging me in any way. I turned back to the barman, but he’d already vanished, serving someone at the opposite end of the bar. I bit my lip and glanced back at the god. He was all chiseled features, five o’clock shadow, and a mouth that looked like it was made to perform sinful acts all over a woman’s body.

  You’re not that lucky.

  My gaze slid to the elderly gent, and he glanced up, caught my eye, and smiled. Yep, there you go. Of course, it was him. Maybe he felt sorry for me here all on my own? He probably thought I’d been stood up or something.

  I definitely wasn’t getting any creepy vibes from him, and my creep radar was first class. The way I looked—all the tattoos, the clothes I wore—made me stand out in a crowd, and sometimes I drew attention, not all of it good.

  It’d be rude not to say thanks, and honestly, I could use the company. Sliding my drink off the bar, I headed toward him. My gaze darted back to the god without my say-so, because holy shit the guy was hot—

  His electric-blue gaze lifted and slid to me, and he had the wattage cranked waaay up. Those eyes hit me full force, shocking the shit out of me, zapping me with a dose of pure brooding sexiness that had the power to knock me off my feet. I stumbled, my ankle tipping perilously in my spiked heel.

  “Careful there, honey.”

  The older man caught me before I lost my drink and got a face-full of alcohol-soaked carpet.

  “Those are some quick reflexes you have there.”

  He chuckled. “I saw you coming.”

  “No one else even attempted to save me. You’re the only gentleman in the room. Thank you kindly, good sir.”

  His grin widened. “You’re hard to miss. I think you probably intimidate most of these morons.”

  I liked this guy. “You think so?”

  “Unique scares some men. The weak ones, anyway.”

  “I’m not as scary as I look. I’m like a peacock, all plume and no bite.”

  His eyes sparkled. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

  I rested my elbow on the bar. “Okay, you got me there. I have sharp claws, but I save them for the idiots who really piss me off.”

  He laughed and I grinned.

  The door opened and my new friend glanced over at the woman who had just walked in. His smile widened as if the sun had just come up. “My ride’s here,” he said. “Nice talking to you, honey. And don’t waste your time on a man who doesn’t appreciate you, claws and all.” Then he patted my hand and headed for his lady friend at the door.

  That was nice, in fact, my eyes were stinging again. Then I remembered why I’d walked over to him in the first place. “Hey!”

  He turned back.

  I held up my glass. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Wish I could take the credit.” He smirked and tilted his head to the tall, silent man standing not far from me. The god.

  I spun around and Adonis, the name just popped into my head, was watching me with that electric-blue gaze. He said nothing.

  I stared back, swallowed…swallowed again. My mouth was suddenly dry as hell. “You bought me the drink?”

  He dipped his chin, a small curve to his sinful mouth.

  “Um…well, thanks.”

  “All good.” He took a sip from his beer. “Think you’re needed on stage.”

  “Pardon?”

  “The lady in red?”

  His deep voice skated down my
spine, and I shivered.

  “You’re up, lady in red,” the guy at the karaoke machine called, his voice finally penetrating my lust haze. I turned, and the guy waved to me. “Any day now, sweetheart.”

  Laughter rumbled through the bar.

  Shit.

  Mase

  Fuck me, she was gorgeous.

  My gaze followed her as she rushed to the stage, somehow not stumbling again in those killer heels. Before she’d arrived, the bar had seemed dark, bland, colorless. Then she walked in with her brightly inked arms, delicate gold nose ring, red dress, and platinum blond hair, and lit the place up. The fifties-style dress she wore clung to her waist, flaring out at her hips, showing off just how small and curvy she was.

  She was soft, sexy, and so damn tempting, I hadn’t been able to look away.

  Since my wife walked out nearly a year ago, I’d barely looked at another woman. I hadn’t wanted anyone else. Looking at the “lady in red” now…I wanted. I wanted so fucking badly I ached.

  Jesus, I hadn’t planned to talk to her. She was obviously young. Too young for me. But I’d wanted the sadness gone from her eyes. She’d looked…lonely. A feeling I was all too familiar with.

  She smiled at the guy in charge of the karaoke machine and gave him a subtle nod.

  Music started up, slow and melodic.

  It was Patsy Cline’s “Walkin’ After Midnight.”

  Definitely not what I’d expected. And for some reason, when she moved up to the mic and gripped it with a shaking hand, my heart beat faster.