Go Away, Darling Read online

  Go Away, Darling

  Calusa Key Book 2

  Alexis Anne

  Go Away, Darling

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  By Alexis Anne

  http://alexisannebooks.com/

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  Copyright 2020 Alexis Sykes

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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  Cover design by Alexis Anne

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  Contents

  A Note About The Series . . .

  Cast

  Also By Alexis Anne

  Newsletter

  Social Media

  Part I

  Author’s Note

  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

  Part II

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Mistletoe Key

  Last Fall (an excerpt)

  What To Read Next

  Also By Alexis Anne

  Thank You

  About the Author

  —The Storm Inside Series—

  A Note About The Series . . .

  To help you navigate the Calusa Key world I’ve included a cast list, reading order, and this note to explain a few things.

  Calusa Key is a fictional island on the gulf coast of Florida. It is loosely based on the islands of my childhood: Sanibel, Captiva, Pine Island, Gasparilla, and Cayo Costa. It is all of them and none of them. I wanted to capture them as they were. My own little time capsule.

  The Calusa Key series is its own series, but it connects to my other books. Scott Kaine first appears in Sins, and again in Lies and Last Fall, where we also meet his younger brother Chris Kaine. Their appearances in these books are short but you may enjoy going back to read them if you haven’t yet! Also making an appearance in the series is Contention Security (also from Sins and Last Fall.)

  Happy reading!

  xoxo

  Alexis

  Cast

  The Kaine Family

  Ben Kaine: The oldest Kaine brother. Celebrity carpenter. Star of television show Found Home History on the Home Restoration Network. Has a dog named Sheba

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  Scott Kaine: The middle Kaine brother. Hollywood bad boy turned award winning movie star and producer. Co-owner of Kaine & Lily Productions

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  Chris Kaine: The youngest Kaine brother. Pitcher for the St. Pete Mantas and new home owner on Calusa Key

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  Mr. & Mrs. Kaine: The parents of the Kaine brothers, also known as the musical act Paint the Wallflower Gold, currently performing in Las Vegas

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  Grandma Kaine: The Kaine brothers grandmother. Believes a prophecy determines the brothers’ future and love interests.

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  The Anderson Family

  Paris Anderson Montague: The oldest Anderson sister. Married to Harrison Montague, mother of Melly and Lia. Lives in their childhood home with her family.

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  Berlin Anderson Cassidy: Middle Anderson sister. Archaeologist on Mistletoe Key. Formerly married to Jack Cassidy, currently engaged to Ryker Levine.

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  London Anderson: Youngest Anderson sister. Travel writer who rarely returns home.

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  Rachel Anderson: The Anderson sisters’ mother. Marketing manager for a small Calusa Key resort.

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  Liam Anderson: The Anderson sisters’ father. Former Olympic medalist and founder of the Calusa Key Olympic Training Center

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  Grams and Gramps: The Anderson sisters’ grandparents.

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  Friends and Family

  Olivia Saldana: Berlin’s childhood best friend and current neighbor of Chris Kaine. Has a son named Lincoln (Linc) and is divorced from Beau “the Bull”, a running back for the Tampa Bay Renegades

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  Summer Saldana: Olivia’s younger sister

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  Lucy Davis: Manager of Lily & Kaine Productions, former agent. On-and-off-again girlfriend of Scott Kaine

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  Lily Lawrence: Actress and Screenwriter. Co-owner of Lily & Kaine Productions.

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  Erik Cassidy: Second baseman for the Mantas. He is Jack Cassidy’s younger brother and fiancé to writer Zoe Hyde

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  Jack Cassidy: Miami Pythons coach, ex-husband of Berlin Anderson, and older brother to Erik Cassidy

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  Wes Allen: Mantas catcher, also known as Mr. Instagram. Married to the team’s orthopedic surgeon, Carrie.

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  Seth Butler: Mantas left-fielder. Leads the team in homers.

  Also By Alexis Anne

  Steamy Baseball Second Chance Romances

  The Storm Inside (A Jake & Eve Novel)

  Reflected in the Rain (A Jake & Eve Novel)

  When Lightning Strikes (A Marie & Greg Novel)

  Never Let Go (A Jake & Eve Novel)

  Summer Heat (A June & Roman Novel)

  Night Games (A Carrie & Wes Novel)

  Last Fall (A Zoe & Erik Novel)

  Erotic Sports Romances

  Reckless Kiss (A Leo & Esme Novel)

  Reckless Love (A Leo & Esme Novel)

  Reckless Nights (A William & Matilda Novel)

  Small Town Contemporary Romances

  Come For Me, Darling (A Ben Kaine Novel)

  Go Away, Darling (A Chris Kaine Novel)

  Kiss Me, Darling (A Scott Kaine Novel)

  Third Time’s the Charm (A Last Fall Crossover Novella)

  Erotic Romance (The World of Tease)

  The Callaway Chronicles

  Tease (An Adam & Elizabeth Novel)

  Want (An Adam & Elizabeth Novel

  King (a Race Car Driver Romance)

  Crave (An Adam & Elizabeth Novel)

  Naked (A Tease & Wild Pitch Crossover)

  Need (A King & Isa Novel)

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  The Sutherland Scandals

  Tempt (Allison Riley & Theo Sutherland)

  Burn (A Michael Sutherland Romance)

  Secrets (A Nicki Sutherland Novel)

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  The Price of Fame Series

  Stripped (A Rockstar Romance)

  Sins (A Rockstar/Bodyguard Romance)

  Lies (A Lily Lawrence Novel)

  The Complete List of Alexis Anne Books

  Sign up for my newsletter!

  Newsletter

  If you’d like updates about my books, sign up for my newsletter!

  Social Media

  Signup for Alexis’s Newsletter

  Goodreads

  Bookbub

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Alexis Anne’s Facebook Reader Group

  AlexisAnneBooks.com

  Bird,

  You inspired this book with your young love of love.

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  You make us giggle when you hide under the blankets during kissing scenes in movies. We’ll never forget how hard you shipped Astrid and Hiccup. We love your morning snuggles and that you prefer to fall asleep plastered to the side of
your brother.

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  Some of the events inside this book are inspired by your big, big heart. Thank you. I love you.

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  xoxo

  Momma Bird

  Part I

  Author’s Note

  After I wrote Come For Me, Darling I was hit with a very harsh round of depression. I tried to write through it, finishing a first draft of Go Away, Darling, only to realize it was pretty terrible. So I walked away from that manuscript.

  It took me two years to pick it back up again and oh, man! There was a lot of work to do, but the foundation was fantastic. All I had to do was delete over half the book and edit out the elements of my own depression that somehow wound up in their story! Easy! (It was not easy.)

  Leaving a story that’s part of a larger universe for two years meant that I had to reread books and do a lot of research on my own writing. I fully admit that I didn’t get everything perfect. All I ask is that you overlook anything that doesn’t line up exactly. I tried my hardest and I love the book we ended up with.

  Go Away, Darling is sweet, a little bit funny, and a lot bit hopeful. Enjoy!

  —Alexis

  1

  Excellent peripheral vision

  Chris

  The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon. At least I think it was. I had to admit that drinking a six-pack on a hot day of fishing was probably not my wisest decision, but it was my day off and damn it all, I wanted to.

  There was a point in every baseball season when I reached my limit. Where I got so fucking sick of the daily games, road trips, and stress that I disappeared for my day off and got shitfaced drunk.

  Today was that day. We were 137 games into the best season of my life. The Mantas were on track for a sweet position in the playoffs and everyone had started to say the “P” word. Pennant. I didn’t dare say it out loud, let alone the ones that came after that. Ballplayers dreamt their whole lives of playing in a World Series; I wasn’t about to curse myself now.

  Besides, there was a reason I bought a beach house on a quiet island just far enough away from my Mantas teammates. I needed space. I needed home. My life was baseball but at the end of the day I craved settling down in the same place, putting down roots, living my life off the field as quietly as possible. Here I could fish. I was just one of many who enjoyed spending solitary time alone with their beer and their potential dinner. There was something immensely satisfying about catching your dinner. It called to my baser instincts.

  Which was why I was all kinds of fired up and pissed off when I heard the quiet motor of another boat. Generally I was a friendly guy and most days I’d wave, maybe exchange a few words with my fellow fisherman, and get back to it. But not today. Today was Pissed-Off Day. I wanted—no needed—to brood alone, which required me to sober up enough to tell this interloper to leave as quickly as possible.

  I was anchored up in a nice, quiet bay. It was one of those mangrove islands that wasn’t really an island so much as it was where a sandbar had collected enough sand to become a tiny spit of land, the mangroves colonized and it grew to a decent size, but no one was going to be setting foot on it, let alone living on it. It was mostly just a great place to fish and have some peace and quiet. Sometimes I found other fishermen, sometimes I found topless women sunbathing, sometimes I found both.

  I was far enough away from Calusa Key that I couldn’t see it, but close enough that it was a quick sprint home whenever I sobered back up. The salt water and harsh sun had called to me all my life, demanding that one day I return to the sleepy island I called home so many years ago. With such a bright spotlight on me this year, it was time. I bought the house and felt a sense of relief that I had somewhere to escape to. The only problem was that those opportunities for escape were few and far between.

  The mystery boat came around the northern tip of the island, the driver standing up behind the steering wheel. The blue bimini top was up for shade, so clearly the boater had been moving slowly around the area. He raised his hand in a wave.

  I did not return the wave, hoping my foul mood would be obvious and the guy would move along.

  Apparently I needed to be more obvious because instead of turning around and leaving, the boater pulled up alongside and cut the motor. “Hello!”

  The voice was surprisingly high pitched but I didn’t pay much attention. Instead I reeled in my line and jammed it into the holder. Then I grabbed my beer and marched to the opposite side of my boat. And by marching, what I really meant was that I took two angry steps.

  “What?” I barked. At this point any moron would be able to pick up my social cues. I expected a quick apology and then to be left alone.

  But instead I found myself gaping.

  Yes, gaping.

  Because he was a she.

  A gorgeous she.

  Her dark hair was tucked up under a blue Mantas ball cap. Her skin was golden brown. Her lips full and luscious. Her eyes were hidden behind a mirrored pair of Costas. Over her body was an open Columbia fishing shirt, revealing a hot pink bikini and a slender but unmistakably female body.

  Damn. Just...damn. I hadn’t been struck dumb by a woman in...ever? Had I ever been rendered speechless on sight alone? I didn’t think I had. Sure I got a little tongue-tied in college a few times, and every so often a woman would catch my eye in such a way that I found it difficult to look away, but never this. This woman standing in front of me with a lopsided grin looking as if she belonged on a fishing boat, had just short circuited my entire body, brain to toes.

  Speak you fucking idiot. “Ummm . . . can I help you?”

  She smiled. “I didn’t mean to bother you but I saw Marine Patrol working their way through the area.” She spoke with her hand moving through the air. Her voice had a lilt to it. This seemed natural and right.

  Here she was, kindly giving me a heads up and I was being a grumpy, rude ass. An ass who now had a racing heart and an inability to speak. “All my catches are legal.” I always double-checked their size before deciding whether or not to keep them for dinner. “But thanks.”

  She tilted her head like she thought I was adorably clueless. “That’s good to hear. But you might want to finish that beer.”

  I stared at the can in my hand. “Shit.” But instead of chugging the last half, I dumped it over the side, stashed it with the other empties, and grabbed a big, cold bottle of water instead. “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Happens.”

  “I don’t drink and drive,” I blurted out for some reason. My skin was tingling and I felt like I needed her to know that I might be irresponsible and very buzzed but I wouldn’t power up the boat and move until I was sober again.

  “That’s good to know.” She tilted her head to the opposite side and I got the distinct impression she was studying me. “You’re new around here?”

  I nodded as a weird tingling sensation crept over me. The way she spoke...the shape of her face...I knew this woman. “Yeah, about a month ago, but I haven’t really had much time at home yet.” How did I know her?

  “Your boat looks very new, too.”

  “It is. Part of the reason I moved here was the fishing.”

  She laughed, sat on top of the puffy white seat and leaned on her knees. “Usually I hear it’s for the beaches or the shells, although I personally prefer the fishing.”

  “Well, those are nice too.”

  “They are.” Then she smiled. A giant megawatt smile that floored me. Sent my heart slamming into my gut, made me forget how to swallow or breathe.

  I know her.

  My entire body went on red alert, all my senses firing, my brain searching for the answer. “Have we met before?” Why couldn’t I place her? Was it a simple run-in on the island? Maybe at the grocery store? No. I’d remember that. This physical reaction wasn’t the kind of thing I’d ever forget.

  Like ever.

  Which was why I knew we’d met somewhere...

  She shook her head sl
owly. “Maybe? What is it you do...I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  And that’s when it hit me. The way she shook her head, the lilt of her words (despite my inebriated state) triggered a very old memory. It slammed into me like a ton of bricks dropped from a crane above my head. Like hitting a catcher blocking home plate when you’re screaming toward home.