Bad Beginnings: A Redemption Beach Prequel Read online

Jameson just shakes his head. “Can I buy you a drink, at least?”

  “That you can, man. That you can.”

  Turning my back on the sultry evening, I head inside.

  3

  Prologue 3

  Four Months Ago — CURE Bar

  “Hey Emma, what do you think?” Jameson asks, scratching his stubbled cheek.

  The wall behind the bar is lit up by glowing neon string lights, and it showcases the hundred or so brands of liquor that Jameson insisted on. He stands back, admiring his handiwork. I think that it’s absolutely amazing, but then again I think that almost everything Jameson touches is amazing.

  “Uhhh, it looks great,” I say from my seat at the bar. I’m taking up all the space by spreading out my law school books, but I’m not studying law. Instead, I’m studying Jameson. “Maybe you should add another bottle over there on the right?”

  I point to a spot. He looks at where I’m pointing, nodding slowly. “Good eye. It looks totally bare in that spot.”

  He grabs another bottle, reaching up to put it in the bare spot. I bite my lip. Jameson looks ridiculously good right now, just in dark jeans that hug his ass just so, a black NIN t-shirt, and blood red Chucks.

  “It looks good,” I say, my cheeks turning red even as I say it. By it, I mean every inch of him… and by good, I mean appetizing, enticing, and tempting to the extreme.

  I sigh. Forest comes out of the back room, looking suave as ever in a green sweater and jeans. His dark hair and beard look pretty alluring; if I wasn’t already so infatuated with Jameson I would probably have a thing for Forest.

  He pulls his fiancée Addison along by the wrist. She doesn’t say anything, just looks good in her pristine white dress, her hair artfullypinned up.

  “Hey guys,” Forest says.

  “Finish checking out the liquor cave that I built upstairs?” Jameson asks Forest.

  “Yeah. It’s kind of trippy to see several thousand dollars of booze in one location. But it looks like everything is ready for the opening tomorrow.”

  “Right on. What time will you be here tomorrow?”

  Forest glances at Addison. “What time do you think we’ll be done with brunch with your parents? Around four? ”

  She inclines her head ever so slightly, which I guess means that she approves. I wonder what her deal is. It’s not exactly an ice vibe I get from her, like I feel with Asher’s fiancee Jenna. I just don’t get anything from Addison.

  It’s very weird.

  I turn my head as Gunnar bursts in the front door, three pretty blondes dressed to the nines in tow. For his part, Gunnar looks like he just left a dance club, because of the way he’s dressed in a black checked dress shirt that’s partially unbuttoned and a pair of black jeans.

  He’s obviously just said something funny, because they are all laughing.

  “Ladies, just sit over there if you will,” he says, pointing to one of the booths. He winks at them. “I just need to be here for a minute, and then we can go back to my place.”

  My eyebrows rise, but the girls just titter. Gunnar turns his attention to me, walking toward the bar. “Emma. Looking good, as usual.”

  I squirm a little under his gaze. Gunnar is a complete tool, but damn if he’s not good looking enough to pull it off.

  “Uh, thanks,” I manage.

  “Hey,” Jameson says, scowling. “You know the rules. No hitting on Emma. Same rules for everybody.”

  I turn bright red and wish I could sink down into my seat. Asher has been announcing the same rule ever since I was old enough to put on a training bra. It’s super humiliating.

  “I was just commenting,” Gunnar says with a shrug. He notices Forest and Addison. “What’s up?”

  Forest crosses his arms. “We were supposed to meet here over an hour ago. Asher already came and left.”

  Gunnar rolls his eyes. “I’m here. I didn’t realize you would make it into a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” Jameson jumps in and corrects him. “How are we supposed to have fucking employees show up on time if we just show up whenever we feel like it?”

  “Mea culpa,” Gunnar says, but he doesn’t really look very sorry. “What am I supposed to be doing here, anyway?”

  Jameson’s jaw clenches. Forest steps in for him. “Can you just go upstairs and check on everything? Make sure that all the rum and tequila and mezcal and pisco you asked for is in stock.”

  “Aye aye,” Gunnar says. He disappears into the back room.

  “Every time he starts telling me how I’m too uptight, I’m this close to punching him in the fucking face,” Jameson declares, turning back to the bar.

  The front door opens again, and a gorgeous young Asian woman with long hair and porcelain skin sticks her head in. When she sees Forest and Jameson, she brightens and enters. I look longingly at her short denim shorts and her oversized blue tank top.

  If my parents saw me out and about in an outfit like that, they’d flip. Hell, I think that Asher would even frog march me back home to change if he saw me wearing that… and he’s supposed to be the young, cool rebel of our uptight family.

  “Hi,” she says, waving a sheaf of papers. To my surprise, she has a posh British accent. “I just brought the rest of my documents. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  I look at Forest, whose mouth has sort of fallen open. He is blatantly checking this woman out, rather than rushing to take the papers from her. Addison just looks on; whatever she feels is certainly not showing on the outside.

  “Maia, hey,” Jameson calls, making his way out from behind the bar. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

  Maia hands him the papers, smiling at me. She extends her hand to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Maia Yu. I’ll be waiting tables here.”

  I take her hand. “Emma Alderisi. I don’t work here, I just hang out.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And I don’t believe we’ve met?” she says, turning to Addison.

  “Addison Raven,” she replies, crossing her arms. “I’m marrying Forest.”

  Maia looks to Forest, who has closed his mouth but continues to look at her with something akin to awe.

  Jameson clears his throat. “Forest was just leaving. Isn’t that right?”

  Forest’s dirty look at Jameson is unmistakable. “Yeah. I’ll see you guys later.”

  He leads his pretty wife-to-be out of the bar. Maia turns and glances at the blonde girls sitting in one of the booths, absorbed in their phones.

  “Are you still hiring?” Maia asks, puzzled. I snicker.

  “Jesus, no,” Jameson says. “They are waiting on my other brother…”

  “What’s that now?” Gunnar says, popping out of the back room. He takes one look at Maia and turns up his charm to a ten. “Hey. We haven’t met. I’m Gunnar.”

  “Maia.” She shakes his hand. He holds onto it for a second too long, but she is too classy to act like it bothered her. She tosses her hair, unruffled. “If that’s it, I’ll go. You need us back here tomorrow at three, right?”

  “Yes,” Jameson and Gunnar say at once. Jameson shoots Gunnar a dirty look. Gunnar grins back, unabashed.

  “See you tomorrow,” Jameson says.

  “We should go too, girls,” Gunnar says, walking over to them. “Maia, we are all just going to my place for a drink…”

  “Leave her alone, Gunnar,” Jameson growls. “Maia, see you later.”

  “Later.” Maia wiggles her fingers and leaves. Gunnar starts after her, although I doubt that he knows exactly what he’s going to do when he catches up to her.

  “Gunnar,” Jameson says threateningly. Gunnar slows, then looks at the three blondes, his shoulders slumping a little.

  “Let’s go,” he says, waiting for the three girls to get up and make their way to the door. He looks back. “Bye, Emma.”

  I wave, my cheeks going pink. Gunnar is definitely not my type, but he is ridiculously handsome. Not to mention a terrible flirt.


  Jameson puts the paperwork on the bar, then returns to looking at the back wall. “You know what this needs?”

  I cock my head. “No, what?”

  “Some flowers,” he says, squinting up at the top shelf. “Like some of the dried flowers that the interior decorator brought, in empty liquor bottles.”

  He goes into the back room, reappearing with a couple of stacked cardboard boxes. He comes over to the bar. “Do you mind?”

  I pick up my law textbooks that I have scattered all around, shoving them to one side. “Nah. I’m not really even working anyway.”

  Jameson chuckles as he opens one of the boxes. The first box contains empty liquor bottles, the labels on some of them so old that they’re starting to peel off. The second box is filled with dried flowers, mostly lavender and baby’s breath.

  “Ooooh, these look great,” I say as he starts to lay set them out on the counter. “Can I help?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” He says it kind of gruffly, but it still makes me blush.

  I pick up a few of both kinds of flower, sticking them into the neck of the first bottle. I glance at him. “Like this?”

  He looks thoughtful, and grabs a little more baby’s breath. “Maybe just a few more…”

  He leans over, reaching across me to put them in the bottle. He’s suddenly really close, close enough that I can smell the scent of soap and leather on him. Goosebumps suddenly break out all over my arms, even though he’s not touching me.

  I notice a couple of black lines peeking out of the neck of his shirt, leading down to… something. I didn’t know that Jameson had tattoos, but of course it makes sense. It fits right in with his brooding bad boy persona, if you ask me.

  Plus

  “Does this look good?” he asks, arranging the stems.

  “What?” I ask vacantly. It takes some effort to rip my eyes from his muscular body. “Oh, uh. Yeah, totally.”

  He shoots me a look, but doesn’t say anything. “If you want to do a few bottles, I’ll put them up over on the back wall.”

  I bite my lip, nodding. I start to arrange another bunch, reaching for an empty bottle. He grabs the one he finished and starts trying it out different places among the full liquor bottles on the wall.

  “This is really a smart idea,” I say to him.

  “It’s funny to hear you say that, being that you’re in law school,” he says.

  I frown, pausing. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t have a stroke of genius.”

  Jameson glances back at me for a second, shaking his head a little.

  “Are you serious? I definitely dumped a girl last week because she told me that I’m not very bright.” He frowns with concentration, replacing one of the bottles on the lower left. “What do you think about that? Maybe we could do six or seven bottles like that?”

  “Wait, what? A girl told you you’re not very bright?” I ask, shocked.

  “Yeah. I mean… I told her that I dropped out of my first year of high school to take care of Forest and Gunnar, and she goes, ‘That makes sense. It’s okay, I’m not dating you for your brain’.”

  My jaw drops. “That’s not fair!”

  He turns and looks at me. “It’s nothing to get upset over.”

  “It is! She sounds like a bitch.” I put on an exaggerated pout.

  His eyes crinkle with humor. “You’re cute when you’re all worked up.”

  I turn beet red for about the thousandth time today. “I’m just stating facts,” I mumble, embarrassed. Luckily, the moment passes, and I go back to arranging flowers in their makeshift vases.

  Jameson puts a couple more bottles up, then pauses, stroking his stubbled chin. “I don’t think I can reach any higher. How do you feel about climbing up to stand on the shelf here?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Ummm…”

  He pats the back shelf. “I mean, I’d help you get up and down. I promise not to look up your dress or anything.”

  I imagine the kind of help he means, which would probably involve a lot of close contact. I push up out of my seat.

  “Sure.”

  “Alright, come here,” he instructs, looking at the wall. “I’ll boost you up.”

  I do as he says, taking his hands. I feel weird, doing a physical activity in my tiny pale green sundress. I blush again. The feel of his hands on my body is absolutely sinful, though there’s nothing sinful about what we’re doing.

  Jameson’s so much warmer than I am, just by nature. I take a deep breath, inhaling his clean scent. He grabs me by the waist, pushing me up, until I can stand on the shelf.

  At some point in the transaction, he pushes my actual ass up with one big hand. I can’t help the nervous laughter that escapes me.

  “Are you steady?” he asks.

  “I think so—” I say. Then I squeak as I fall backwards.

  Shit shit shit shit— I definitely expect to hit the ground, hard.

  But then I land in Jameson’s arms, as perfectly as I could’ve dreamed. Our faces are so close just then, his eyes on my face. All I can think of is that I am surely going to drown in his dark gaze.

  His eyes dip down to my mouth. I swear, the whole world around us slows. I lick my bottom lip, suddenly more certain than anything that he’s about to kiss me.

  Yes. It’s happening. My eyelids start to flutter closed, in preparation.

  “Whoa!” Asher’s voice throws me for a loop. I open my eyes to see him coming in through the front door. Jameson hastily puts me down, moving to step away from me. “What’s going on?”

  “I fell!” I blurt out, not wanting Jameson to get in trouble with Asher. “I was trying to reach something. Jameson just caught me, is all.”

  “Relax,” Asher says, coming up behind the bar. “Jameson knows the rule. Don’t you, Jay?”

  Jameson is slightly red-faced. “Yep. Emma is off limits.”

  I grimace at his words. Yeah, yeah, they’ve been saying the exact same thing ever since I turned thirteen.

  “That’s right,” Asher says, clapping him on the back.

  Jameson looks so guilty, I almost feel bad for him. That is, until he speaks.

  “I would never do that to you,” he says to Asher. Then he looks me right in the eye. “Never.”

  My cheeks start to burn, and I clench my jaw. “I’m not a little girl, Asher. I can make decisions for myself.”

  Asher and J both look at me. Asher snorts. “Not with my friends, you can’t. Isn’t that right, J?”

  There’s a few seconds of silence. I look at J, at the conflicted expression on his face. I begin to feel a tiny flicker of hope. Is he about to stand up for me?

  God, is he about to tell Asher that he has feelings for me? My heart skips a beat.

  But of course, he doesn’t. He probably doesn’t even feel anything for me, because his next words cut pretty deeply.

  “Your friends are off limits for a reason,” J says to Asher, casting his glance downward. “Besides, I wouldn’t ever do anything with Emma. She’s so… young.”

  Oh, no he didn’t. J definitely just spoke to Asher about me, like I’m not here. I grind my teeth.

  “I’m right here!” I say angrily, waving my hand. “I don’t like being talked about like I’m not in the room.”

  J just continues to look away, like I have never existed. I could smack him, I’m so mad.

  Asher looks at me with an impatient expression. “You’re here and you’re snippy. Hooray for us.”

  “Fuck you,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m humiliated right now, and it is definitely their fault. “Both of you can go to hell.”

  “Emma—” Asher says, rolling his eyes.

  That’s it. Asher’s eye roll is the nail in the coffin for me. I hate both of them right now.

  “I’m going to go home. At least Evie appreciates me as a roommate… and as an adult,” I hiss. I stomp around the bar, feeling like they made me act childishly. I jam my textbooks into my satchel, fuming.

  I’m angry
at Asher, yes. He needs to let me grow up.

  But more than that, I’m angry at J. I feel like he just looked me in the eye and said those things to be hurtful. That makes him an asshole, no matter how you slice it.

  “Emma, don’t be like that,” Jameson says as I shoulder my bag. I shoot him a glare.

  “Piss off,” I say, storming off toward the door.

  I leave them there behind the bar, shaking their heads. Pushing open the door, I step out into the bright afternoon light. I’m furious at both of them, shaking a little.

  Asher can go put all that stuff about me being his baby sister where the sun don’t shine. And Jameson?

  Jameson seems so manly and grown, except where Asher is concerned. He needs to grow up, and grow a pair. No matter how attractive Jameson may be, I don’t have time for anybody that doesn’t want me.

  I just have to keep reminding myself of that… forever.

  Grimacing, I start to walk home.

  1

  A Taste Of Bad Behavior!

  2

  Bad Behavior

  Chapter One

  Getting caught in the back room of Cure, kissing my best friend’s wife-to-be at their wedding rehearsal after party… let’s just say it was not a part of my plan.

  The night starts off with the pop champagne corks flying around behind the bar. The lights are turned way down, and a playlist of Purity Ring remixes is playing loudly over the sound system. The doors to the outside are thrown open, letting in the salty air and the sound of the ocean waves of Redemption Beach crashing in the distance.

  People are toasting the happy couple. It’s a little premature if you ask me, but no one did. So I just keep my trap shut and work the bar. Behind the bar, I’m still the bartender, the master of my little domain.

  On the floor of the restaurant, I would have to rub elbows with hedge fund managers and CEOs and Instagram models. The kind of people who went to expensive private collages and talk about where they’re summering. Not my crowd.

  They’re all here for Asher and his well-to-do fiancee Jenna. And I’m here too, me and the other Hart brothers. We’re standing in for Asher’s family, because they don’t care about him and because we do.