For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) by Selena Laurence
For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2)
by Selena Laurence
Genre: Edgy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 29, 2014
Hosted by: The REAL Housewives of Romance
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Six months ago, Walsh Clark was the drummer of America’s hottest rock sensation, Lush. Now he’s living at the Double A Ranch in north Texas, home to cows, cowboys, and lushes—like him. He’s survived alcoholism, rehab, and the breakup of his band. But the one thing Walsh might not survive is the return of his ex fiancée Tammy DiLorenzo.Tammy and Walsh met at fourteen, and she was with him on every step to fame and fortune—until one fateful night when she betrayed him. Now she’s back, begging for forgiveness and ready to fight for her man. But some betrayals are too painful to forget, some mistakes can’t be repaired, and Walsh is certain that he and Tammy can’t ever be together again.
But DiLorenzo women don’t back down, and Tammy always gets what she wants. In the wake of the lies and losses, she’s prepared to do whatever it takes for a second chance. She’ll give it all—for the love of a lush.
There’s silence for a minute, and then Leanne clears her throat uncomfortably. “Uh, Mike, I guess you know Walsh’s friend?”
I’m breathing hard now, and I’m not sure I can keep standing. It feels like my damn heart is going to pitch itself out of my chest onto the floor. I bend over and put my hands on my knees, praying that they can’t hear my raspy breaths from inside the kitchen.
“Uh, yeah,” Mike answers tentatively.
“Is he here?” the visitor asks. I hear the hope in the voice, and the false bravado that only I would pick up on.
Mike turns his head slightly to glance at me over his shoulder, but I can’t look him in the eye, I’m working too hard at being able to stand up straight and breathe.
“I’m not sure…”
“Mike, please,” the guest interrupts, that bravado slipping, and a certain desperation leaking through. Even after all this time, I can’t stand to hear that need. I’m compelled to fix it, make it better, find a way to bring the hope back.
“It’s okay, Mike,” I say hoarsely as I finally step forward to stand next to him in the kitchen. I stop, taking in the scene, like a frozen tableau, all eyes on me—one pair waiting for me to freak the fuck out, the second questioning what the hell is going on, and the third. Ah, the third. I look into the depths of those eyes, remembering all the hours I spent lost in their velvety texture, their warmth, their love. The love I thought was mine to hold forever. Those eyes in the face of the person who committed the greatest hurt I’ve ever felt in my twenty-eight years. The eyes that looked at me every day for months on end and lied. The eyes of the woman I still, very reluctantly, love to this day.
I blink, take a deep breath and say, “Hi Tammy. What brings you by?”
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