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  SWEET AS SIN

  Ana Jolene

  SWEET AS SIN

  MOONRISE BEACH SERIES, BOOK TWO

  Copyright © 2018 Ana Jolene

  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—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by Arie Bea

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ISBN: 978-0-9952412-9-9

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  A NOTE TO READERS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  EPILOGUE

  MORE THAN THIS

  RESURRECTION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  OTHER TITLES BY ANA JOLENE

  For Auntie Juliet

  I will always remember your kindness and generosity

  A NOTE TO READERS

  Hutch Happa-Hewitt is definitely one of my favorite heroes that I’ve written so I knew it would take a special woman to tame him. Maison Lane’s sweet ways manages to snag his attention, proving that kindness and hard work go a long way. I hope you enjoy their story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. You’ll see more of the Happa-Hewitts in the rest of the Moonrise Beach series. However, make sure you don’t miss Dacey and Greyson’s love story in CLOSE TO YOU, the first book of the Moonrise Beach series too. Each book is written to stand alone, but will be part of a larger series for your enjoyment.

  If you enjoy this book, please sign up for my newsletter so you don’t miss out on any future Moonrise Beach releases on my website: www.anajolene.com. And if you like darker, more grittier stories, my New Adult Dystopian series, Glory MC, might be the thing for you! There are several books already available in the series (GLORY, ORIGIN, and NIRVANA) with plans for more to come this year!

  Happy Reading!

  —Ana

  ONE

  Dirty, bloody battle.

  For most people, it was something to fear. However, Hutch Happa-Hewitt loved it. He loved everything about being in the Army. He loved the strategy, the training, and the hard work. He loved the blood, the sweat, and the tears involved. And he loved being out there, fighting for what he’d always believed in.

  However, he would no longer be living out his dream. Since the attack, his life had drastically changed. It’d been so quick and unexpected that only brief moments had stuck with him. He’d been the only one in the Stryker vehicle when the explosion happened, and as a result, his entire right side had been hit. As fire ripped through his system, he’d been forced to act quickly.

  No amount of training would’ve prepared Hutch for the kind of pain and agony. Knowledge meant nothing when you could smell your own flesh burning.

  Teeth gritted against the pain, he’d done his best to hold on, to stay conscious. He remembered hearing the sounds of gunfire before help came. It’d felt like eternity ago, and yet, the phantom pain of it still stayed with him.

  He remembered waking up in a hospital, screaming at the top of his lungs. His whole body was on fire, but it centered in his right leg the most. He’d done his best to lift up his head, but he was weak and his movements were limited; his head slammed back hard against the pillow.

  When he woke again, it was to find someone before him. It took him a while to realize that it was a nurse asking him about his family. She wanted to know if she could call someone to be here with him so that he wouldn’t be alone and to help him through his recovery. But as far as he was concerned, he was alone, and he would always be.

  There was no one he wanted to call, no one that would help him through this mess. If he wanted to get out of here, he’d have to do it on his own.

  His family wouldn’t help him. They wouldn’t come to see him, and even if they did, what good would their presence do? He didn’t want them to see him like this anyway.

  Pain.

  Pain was all he felt now. Pain and anger.

  “Why doesn’t he call his family?” he heard one nurse whisper when they’d thought he was asleep.

  “He doesn’t have any.”

  “Yes, he does. He just chooses not to let them know.”

  He could hear the confusion in the other nurse’s voice. “Why wouldn’t he want their support?”

  “Maybe they’re not close. Maybe they wouldn’t come.”

  Now confusion was replaced with pity. “How terrible.”

  Hutch was tempted to open his eyes but instead he lay there as still as a corpse with only one thought running through his mind.

  Get better.

  Need to return.

  But he didn’t mean returning home. No, he fully intended to go back to the Army where he belonged.

  It wasn’t until weeks later when he realized that he no longer had half his right leg that he fully grasped his new situation.

  He couldn’t go back. Not like this.

  He couldn’t even manage sitting up on his own without feeling excruciating pain. Still, his stubborn attitude hadn’t allowed him to give up. He spent months in recovery, relearning how to move, how to walk. It’d been the toughest experience of his life but pain and anger had motivated him and kept him alive.

  Too bad that it still wasn’t enough. When he’d tried to come back, they’d refused him. He’d lost his speed and stamina and they’d deemed him unfit to serve. All those months of pushing himself hadn’t been enough to get him back to where he used to be. Now, he’d be forced to go home. But Hutch would’ve preferred to die on the battlefield than return to Moonrise Beach.

  And wasn’t that fucked up?

  Hadn’t he had enough already? Hadn’t losing his leg been enough for him to stop and try to live a peaceful civilian life? Was he so messed up that he still longed for that adrenaline rush despite the fact that he’d almost died?

  He’d been a damn good soldier though. He’d earned every ounce of what he’d had. No one could ever say that his father had given him this; he’d climbed the ranks on his own. People had long ago stopped asking who he was because the simple answer was that he was a soldier.

  Now he was simply an amputee.

  Get a fucking grip, man. He had to stop feeling sorry for himself. He was acting like such a pussy. People used to praise him on how tough he was, but the truth was, he didn’t feel tough at all. He felt raw and vulnerable and he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in alcohol.

  Too bad that there was no whiskey left. He’d drunk it all yesterday. Now he’d have to go hunting for something around the house.

  It was already late in the evening, but time held no meaning for him. Since he was out of a job, he co
uld stay up all night if that was what he wanted. Except staying awake, staying conscious made the days feel longer. Everything was like one long torture session that never ended. Right now, Hutch wanted peace. He wanted oblivion and he knew he would find it once he had another bottle in his hand.

  He searched the kitchen, finding it surprisingly empty. The wine cellar didn’t have any of the hard stuff that he was craving either so he went to the place where he knew he’d have some luck.

  Luckily, his father’s office wasn’t locked so Hutch stumbled his way in, cursing his leg when he got caught on the expensive Aubusson rug. He headed straight for Matthew’s secret stash, whispering “jackpot” when his cold hands wrapped around the bottle of whiskey.

  Snatching up a shot glass, Hutch dropped himself on the chaise and poured himself a shot. The first one was sweet nectar on his tongue so he drank some more, greedy for the oblivion this drink would give him.

  After shooting back five in a row, he stopped to gaze around the room. It was dark; he hadn’t bothered with turning on the lights when he’d come in, so the only source of illumination was the moon.

  He poured himself another shot, luxuriating in the feeling of his body already heating up.

  He’d put a lifetime of sweat and blood into the Army so having it taken away was a crushing blow. He was going to have a difficult time living life in Moonrise Beach without losing who he was.

  Hutch stared at the shot glass in the moonlight. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. His father would no doubt rip him a new one if he found him here, but despite the threat, he continued to drink. He was that desperate for release. He wanted to escape the pain, to escape the memories, and escape the loss that wouldn’t let him go.

  The more he drank, the faster the world spun around him. Soon the tension in his body lessened and Hutch took another shot, feeling his chest relax even more.

  With his next shot, his pain was blissfully, gratefully . . .

  Gone.

  TWO

  There was no rest for the wicked.

  Letting out a weary sigh, Maison Lane stared at her computer screen, blinking blearily as she tried to get some moisture back into her eyes. She was no longer seeing the text before her. Her focus and sense of concentration had deserted her about an hour ago. Now, she was busy trying to look like she was working because Matthew Hewitt, her lovely boss that she was so fond of, currently sat beside her.

  They’d been at it the entire day, working diligently on an important project that they still hadn’t yet been able to complete. So when the workday had finished, instead of going home to relax like any other normal person would, Maison followed her boss to his expensive pad and set up shop here, continuing their grueling work for another few hours.

  They’d been able to get a few more things done, but it was becoming apparent that no matter how much they tried, they wouldn’t be able to complete everything tonight.

  Maison yawned, sitting back in her chair as she picked up her coffee mug and brought it to her lips. “Ugh.” There was nothing but cold grossness inside it now. Over her laptop screen, she caught Matthew’s eyes. “Want another cup?”

  Matthew glanced down at his own empty cup. “Sure. That’d be great.”

  Wonderful. She now had an excuse to take a small break. As Maison reached for the mug he gave her, she couldn’t help but notice the darkness beneath her boss’s eyes. Clearly Matthew was just as tired as she was, but he was pushing through it. The more work they could get done tonight, the better. And another cup of java would certainly help them get the jumpstart they needed.

  As Maison made her way into the kitchen, she tried to keep her jealousy at bay. All white marble and stainless steel, the place was like something out of a catalog. It was a shame the room was rarely used as the only people living here were all men who didn’t cook. She would run wild if she had a kitchen this size. Too bad she wasn’t swimming in money like the Happa-Hewitts, otherwise she’d be tempted to deck her own kitchen out like this. As she started another pot of coffee, Maison leaned back against the countertop and continued to admire the house’s interior.

  That was when the loud shouting started and three little boys rushed into the kitchen. Matthew’s only grandchild, Owen, was having a sleepover with his friends. While it made working in the dining room a little bit difficult with all their yelling and excited squeals, Maison didn’t mind too much. She loved children and it beat the quiet silence that made up most of her nights.

  She guessed that the kids had consumed sugar earlier because their feet were bouncing happily as they danced in front of her. Amused, she could do nothing else but laugh as they proceeded to show off the “cool” gun they each had. She was pleased to notice that they all wore matching Spider-Man pajamas and she wondered for a moment if they’d planned that or it’d been a funny coincidence. Knowing Hunter though, he’d probably done it all on purpose. He’d always been really good at planning parties like that.

  Hunter came into the kitchen then. “Owen! It’s time for bed!” He wore a simple black T-shirt and gym shorts and his eyes lit up when he saw her standing with the kids. “Oh, hey, Maison. You’re still here.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s a little late to be working, don’t you think?”

  Maison shot him a smile. “We’ve still got a lot to do.”

  Hunter’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t hurt to take a break and get a bit of rest, right?” He shook his head. “Geez, Dad works you to the bone!”

  Maison shrugged. “I don’t mind it actually.” She’d heard this a million times before, but she actually preferred the busy schedule of working late nights. At least here she had some company.

  Hunter nodded. “Well, if you need to stay, just let me know.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” While she often stayed late at the Hewitt house, she never spent the night. “I’ll be heading out soon.”

  “You could join our sleepover!” Owen chimed.

  Maison grinned at the little guy. “Thank you for the invitation but won’t it be better without a grown-up around?”

  Owen grabbed Hunter’s hand. “No, Daddy’s going to be there and he’s fun.” When she grinned up at Hunter, he had this proud smile on his face.

  “Well, maybe next time then,” she promised him.

  “Yay!”

  “Okay, guys,” Hunter said. “It’s time for the actual sleeping part of the sleepover now.”

  Owen pouted. “Aw! Do we have to?”

  “But we’re in the middle of an epic fight!” one of his friends whined.

  Hunter employed his brook-no-argument tone. “It’s late, and we still have a big day tomorrow. You do still want to go to the movies, don’t you?” All three boys nodded. “In that case, we need our rest so we can play hard tomorrow, okay?”

  There was less grumbling this time and as the kids headed upstairs, Maison was left smiling to herself in the kitchen. “I’ll see you later,” Hunter said before he followed them upstairs.

  No matter how much Hunter complained about the struggles of being a single father, Maison thought he was doing a pretty good job of raising Owen.

  Speaking of jobs, she probably should get back to work . . .

  After refilling both mugs with fresh brew, she returned to the dining room. Matthew looked relieved to see her again and accepted his cup with a thank-you. “So how are we doing?” she asked him.

  Matthew shook his head. “Thought we’d have made more progress by now.” He glanced down at the expensive watch on his wrist and rubbed his eye with a palm of his hand. “But it’s late. You should go home and get some rest. I’ll need you ready to work a full day again tomorrow.” He turned back to his laptop. “In the meantime, I’ll keep at it for a couple more hours.”

  “I don’t mind staying longer.” God, what was she saying? Her boss was giving her permission to leave! Why wasn’t she grabbing her things and running for the door?

  “Are you sure?” Even with
the dim lighting in the room, she could make out the fine lines around the corner of Matthew’s eyes. His face was pinched with frustration or worry—she wasn’t sure which—and it made her feel a pang of sympathy. They were both exhausted with the day they’d had already, but it didn’t feel right to leave him here swamped with their work.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Do you need me to do anything specifically?”

  Matthew seemed surprised by her decision, but he’d never say no to her help. “Actually, yes.” He set his mug down and started shuffling through the many pages of documents and folders scattered across the table. “Might be the fatigue, but I can’t seem to find the papers on this account.” He pointed at another piece of paper before him. “Have you seen them?” Maison frowned, glancing down at the mountain of paperwork in front of them. She’d gone through these files twice already today and didn’t recall seeing those in the pile.

  As she relayed that information, Matthew frowned and scratched his head. “Maybe I forgot it in my office then.” Damn. She was afraid of that. She tried hiding her dread at having to return to the office this late in the evening when Matthew said, “Wait a minute. I think I may have a copy in my home office.”

  Oh good. “I’ll go get it,” she said before Matthew could get up.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, just let me know where it is.”

  “It’s in the filing cabinet. The one beside—”

  “Beside the desk.” She shot him a grin. “Thanks. I think I’ve got it. Just sit tight while I go grab it.”

  Matthew’s grin was magnificent. “What would I do without you?”

  “Definitely not as much,” she drawled as she turned for his office.

  Since Maison had been in here many times before, she knew her way around pretty well. She’d be in and out quickly so she didn’t bother with switching the lights on.

  Thankfully, the large window behind the desk had its drapes pulled back, allowing the cool gleam of the moonlight to flow into the room. It made it easier to finger through the various folders in the filing cabinet. Maison frowned when she couldn’t find what she was looking for.