A Man without a past meets a man without a future in Repaired by Melissa Collins
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Liam Davis is a man without a past. That’s what he wants everyone to believe, anyway. Hell-bent on erasing any memories of his previous life, he knows that starting over is all he can do. Hiding who he is, where he’s from, why he’s running, and especially who he’s left behind, Liam has run away from everything he’s ever known. His plan works perfectly until one day when Parker Ryan threatens to expose his carefully concealed world.
Parker Ryan is a man without a future. Sure, he’s a partner in one of New York’s most prestigious law firms, but he’ll never be more than a failure in the eyes of his boss, his father. Rather than break away from his father’s standards, he finds himself mindlessly pursuing them, in turn sacrificing anything that would actually make him happy.
When Liam’s and Parker’s lives collide, the ugly truth about who they really are, and who they hope to become reveals itself when they least expect it. As both of their lives become wrecked beyond all belief, they’ll learn how to rely on each other in their journey to become Repaired.
The loud bang on the garage doors scared the shit out of, making me jump out of my skin. “Shit,” I yelled after hitting my head on the bumper. Despite calling out, “One second,” the banging continued. More than a little dizzy, my anger mounted as I walked toward the door. “Chill the fuck out,” I muttered as I wiped my hands on a work rag. The row of windows stretching through the mid-line of the door was tinted so that only someone on the inside could see out. They were designed that way so anyone peering into the shop wouldn’t be able to see what kind of cars were parked inside—a security tip I offered to Paulie after I’d started working here.
The man standing on the other side must not have heard me because he continued his relentless banging. At this rate, I’d be surprised if his knuckles weren’t all bloody and cut up.
Knowing he couldn’t see me did nothing to stop me from staying to the side. My initial intention was simply to check out who the hell was trying to break down my door. The last thing I needed was some psychopath ruining my night, but as I peered out the window, the last thought running through my mind was that he was a psycho.
Dressed in a modern grey suit, he was the epitome of class. The baby blue shirt underneath made his eyes pop, of course the anger simmering there amplified them as well. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked like he was trying to ward off some massive headache. Either he really was a psychopath, playing his part of the deception perfectly, or he was in a bind and genuinely in need of help. Watching him run his fingers through his thick dark brown hair, he let out a deep huff of breath. The door muffled his words, but I swear I heard him say, “Just my fucking luck.”
Having uttered that phrase more than a few times in my own life, I decided I’d let him in and see what he needed. The fact that my dick was twitching in my pants at the mere sight of him didn’t hurt his case much either.
He stood at attention as he listened to me unclicking the locks. The doors rolled open revealing his long, lean frame. This guy was money. It was written all over him, from his shirt to his shoes, from his shiny cufflinks to the BMW key dangling from his finger.
“Can I help you?” My voice was gruff, and I hoped he thought it was from his less than polite request to be seen, rather than the reaction I was having to him.
He eyed me, scanning my body from head to toe. Annoyance was written all over his face and my attraction quickly morphed into annoyance. “Excuse me,” I prompted when he still hadn’t spoken a single word. “You knocked on my door. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, running his hands through his hair once again. “Hit a pothole down the road,” he explained somewhat distractedly. He pointed in the direction in which I assumed his damaged car sat.
“Let me grab the keys to the tow truck.” Walking away from him, I felt his stare on my back.
By the time I walked back out of the office, he was gone. “What the hell?” I mumbled to myself, wondering where the hell he’d gone. For a split second, I actually wondered if I’d conjured him up from thin air to keep myself occupied as I closed the shop by myself. But the smell of his cologne still hung in the air, his heat like a shadow lingering in the open space.
About the Author:
Melissa Collins has always been a book worm. Studying Literature in college ensured that her nose was always stuck in a book. She followed her passion for reading to the most logical career choice: English teacher. Her hope was to share her passion for reading and the escapism of books to her students. Having spent more than a decade in front of a classroom, she can easily say that it’s been a dream.
Her passion for writing didn’t start until more recently. When she was home on maternity leave in early 2012, she read her first romance novel and her head filled with the passion, angst and laughter of the characters who she read about it. It wasn’t long before characters of her own took shape in her mind. Their lives took over Melissa’s brain and The Love Series was born.
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