Betting on Love

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Land poor, Elly leaves the family farm and heads to the big city to become something better than a waitress in a small-town diner. Though she’s succumbed to economic necessity and the siren song of her one-time lover, Alex, she can’t bear to give up the farm that has been in her family for generations. As much as she wants to, she can’t have everything she desires, and she’ll have to decide what is more important: the past or the future.

  Alex has always been a daredevil, up for anything, never tying herself down to anyone. When she falls head over heels for quiet Elly, everyone’s surprised, no one more than her best friend and occasional lover, Will. As things heat up between them, Elly must choose between her past and her future, and Alex is faced with a decision that will shake her to the core of all she holds dear.

  Betting on Love

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Betting on Love

  © 2015 By Alyssa Linn Palmer. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-299-1

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: February 2015

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Ruth Sternglantz

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)

  By the Author

  The Artist’s Muse

  Betting on Love

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to the following people, without whom this book could not have been written: Cathy Pegau, critique partner extraordinare; Anthony Bennett, who took me riding on his Kawasaki Ninja and made sure I at least sounded like I knew what I was talking about when it comes to motorcycles; my family, for all their support; the Calgary Association of Romance Writers of America (CaRWA), for their support and help; and Ruth Sternglantz, my fantastic editor.

  For AWB.

  Prologue

  Cardston, Alberta

  Elly laid the lease down on the kitchen table, over the cracked Formica that had seen her through her entire childhood and then some. Everything here was familiar, the worn coziness of the farmhouse, the pots hanging over the stove, the clutter that dotted the counters, the table itself, and the living room. She hadn’t had the heart to clean it all up, to move it from where it had stood for years while her parents puttered about, oblivious to most of everything.

  “I can’t believe you’re not staying.” Jack leaned over the table, pulling a ballpoint pen from the pocket of his dark blue chambray shirt, clicking the top. He read through the lease, muttering to himself as he went along. “Eleanor Gladys Newton Cole hereby leases the land, as cited in schedule A, to Jack Collins, for the period of one year…” He reached the last page and signed with a flourish. “You sure about this? You don’t have to go just because I’m leasing the land.”

  She wasn’t sure, not really, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “I need to find a job again.” When she held out her hand for the pen, he passed it over and she signed her name below his. “The diner wouldn’t pay enough to keep up with expenses here.”

  “Not even with tips?” Jack scrubbed a hand over his short-cropped blond hair. It was early in the season yet, but his skin was already windburned from being out of doors, working the fields.

  “Not even.” It wouldn’t have been enough, even if she hadn’t been saving. A few months’ worth of expenses for a tiny apartment in the city. With luck, that would be long enough for her to find a proper job. She’d had such trouble with the recession; graphic artists weren’t exactly in high demand.

  “You don’t have to do it all alone, you know.” Jack bent his head and Elly stepped back, so his lips just brushed her hair. Undeterred, he laid a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Your dad always reckoned we’d join our two farms.”

  “I know, but it just isn’t for me.”

  Jack dropped his hand and gathered up the lease. “I’ll check on the house while you’re gone, make sure everything’s in order. And I’ll file this soon too.” He held up the lease that he’d rolled up into a white tube.

  “Thanks.” She wanted to say more but knew he’d take it as an invitation. Even having seen her with Alex, practically a movie-star-romance kiss on the porch, Jack still had hopes. But he was never going to be a gorgeous, dark-haired biker girl who could kiss her breathless. She put her hand in the pocket of her jeans, feeling the worn piece of paper there. Maybe she’d get up the courage to finally phone Alex. Her fingers tensed. It had been months; Alex would have forgotten her by now. She regretted not calling. Even now, she couldn’t get Alex out of her mind, couldn’t forget that incredible night.

  “You’ve got my number.” Jack went to the door, pushing open the screen. It rattled and squeaked. “I’ll get that fixed too.”

  Elly lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave and watched as he thumped down the steps to his blue pickup. That was that.

  What if she had called Alex? Their night together had been incredible, passionate like nothing she’d known. Yet she’d held back. A girl like that…she’d surely have someone back in the city and wouldn’t want a country girl. Better to leave that night as it was.

  When Jack had pulled out and back to the road, roaring off toward his farm, she turned and went up the stairs to her room under the eaves. A light breeze blew through the room, bringing scents of freshly turned fields and clean air. She took a deep breath. She’d miss this. Her suitcase sat open on the bed, almost full. It held all of her city clothes, the ones from her previous job, the clothes she hadn’t had much opportunity to wear in the last year. Waitressing at the diner while taking freelance jobs didn’t leave much call for skirt suits and pretty blouses. She took down the last few shirts from their hangers, the chambray soft under her hands. She’d take this much of the farm with her, at least.

  She closed the suitcase and lifted it off the bed. Time to go.

  Chapter One

  Calgary, Alberta

  Alex slowed as she came up to the traffic light, the Kawasaki Ninja purring under her. She put her foot down and let the motorcycle idle as she wait
ed for the light to change. She usually avoided coming through the city’s downtown core, preferring to take the ring road for as long as possible, but today she wanted to get home in time to take a nap before she headed out to Parry’s for the usual Friday karaoke. Will would be meeting her, and she needed to have her wits about her. Between the two of them, karaoke was practically a contact sport. She smiled to herself, letting her gaze move over the cars in front of her.

  A young woman crossed the street several meters ahead, and Alex admired the slim legs in their professional skirt. She started, then leaned forward. She knew that slim, almost boyish figure, those strawberry-blond curls. Her gloved hands tightened on the handlebars. It was her, the girl from the farm. Elly.

  She still dreamed of that girl sometimes, of the single night they’d spent together, on the bed under the gabled ceiling, the cool breeze from the summer storm drifting in from the open window, teasing their bare skin… The girl had been gorgeous. She’d never thought to see Elly here, two hundred kilometers away, in the middle of the city. If she’d been closer, they might’ve had a thing. Maybe Elly’d be up for an evening if she was just visiting. Alex wasn’t one to turn down a chance, not after their last evening together.

  Elly glanced over, eyeing the bike. Alex lifted her hand and waved, but there was no sign of recognition. As soon as the light changed, Alex shifted gears and zipped forward, cursing the slowness of the car in front of her. She pulled off to the side, coming to a stop beside Elly, who wore not the jeans and chambray shirt from the farm but a suit, looking like the perfect office worker. If it hadn’t been for those curls, Alex might not have recognized her at all.

  Alex pushed up the visor, but still Elly showed no recognition, stepping back with a startled look. Alex fumbled with the chin strap and pulled off her helmet, letting her dark hair fall free, exposing her face to the bright afternoon sunlight.

  “Hey, stranger,” Alex said, her voice a bit huskier than usual. It had been at least a year since she’d seen Elly, and though she’d said she’d get in touch, she’d never quite made it.

  “Hey.” Elly stepped to the curb’s edge, coming alongside the bike. She looked nervous, but a shy smile crossed her features. “Nice bike. What happened to the other one?”

  Out at the farm, Alex had ridden a Harley, but wanting more speed, she’d traded it in for the Kawasaki. “Sold it,” she replied, patting the handlebar. “I like this one better.” She cleared her throat. “You never called.”

  A delicate wrinkle appeared between Elly’s brows as she frowned. “You never called either.”

  That was true, but it had seemed a waste of time to call a girl who didn’t live close by, and who seemed to have sequestered herself in the middle of nowhere. She’d had Jan, and Will, and others since to occupy her time.

  Not wanting to get into details that would only get her pickup line shot down, Alex said, “I wish I had, but I lost your number.” She gave Elly an apologetic smile. “You busy tonight?” She watched Elly, watched the thoughtful expression flit across her face. No smile, no indication of interest. Elly had been so up for it, a year ago. Alex shifted on her feet, feeling the slight slope of the road.

  “Not really. What did you have in mind?”

  Alex wanted to punch a fist into the air. Instead, she squeezed the brake. “We should go for a drink. It’s karaoke night at Parry’s, and the beer is cheap.”

  “Karaoke?” Elly shifted from foot to foot.

  Damn. That wasn’t acceptance. “It’s fun. Trust me.” Alex cradled the helmet in her arm, hoping to convince her. “I’ll come pick you up. Where do you live?”

  “Just a few blocks over, on First Street. Number 5-1-0-4. It’s one of those low-rise apartment buildings.”

  “How about eight? Would that work for you?”

  “All right.”

  “Wear jeans,” Alex said. “No skirts.”

  Elly gave her a puzzled glance. “What for?”

  She chuckled. “A bit awkward, straddling a bike in a skirt. Trust me.” She patted the seat behind her.

  “But…” Elly looked pale, even in the afternoon sun.

  “Eight o’clock.” She smoothed her hair back, out of her face, and slipped her helmet on, buckling the strap under her chin. She studied Elly closely. “I’ll bring a spare helmet for you. I think it’ll fit.”

  Elly nodded, still seeming hesitant. “All right. I’ll be watching for you.”

  “You’ll hear me coming.” Alex grinned. “See you later.” She steered the bike back out into the traffic, feeling the breeze on her cheeks through the open visor. She darted through an open space between a midsize truck and a sedan and zipped through the next green light, heading up the hill and toward home.

  5-1-0-4 First Street, she recited in her head, several times over until she knew she had it down. Will would understand, after all. The two of them were alike, and he wouldn’t be hurt if she passed him up tonight for a babe like Elly.

  *

  At home, Elly dropped her messenger bag to the floor just inside the door and set her keys in their place on the shelf by the door. She’d usually change into yoga pants and a T-shirt, but now she had plans, a first for a Friday evening in the city. Being here alone, even though she’d lived in the city before, made her nervous. So many people, so many chances for something bad to happen. She wasn’t paranoid, but she rarely went out after dark if she could help it. She toed off her shoes and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge to browse. There was enough time for a proper meal, but she had little motivation to cook. She put on water for pasta, and a second pot for sauce. That would do.

  It was almost exactly what she and Alex had eaten that night.

  While she waited for her dinner, Elly went into her bedroom and tugged open the closet door. She chose dark-hued skinny jeans, one of her favorite pairs, but when it came to choosing a shirt, she had no clue. She’d never been to Parry’s. Was it a pub, or fancier? Or more casual? Nearly anything would have worked at the diner for a night out, but it was different here. Finally, she chose a black blouse with fine white polka dots, a compromise between casual and dressy. She set the clothes on the bed and went to have her dinner.

  At five minutes to eight, Elly paced her living room, glancing out the picture window every few moments. As the time had wound down, the tension had ratcheted up and she wished she hadn’t eaten. Her stomach churned, and it wasn’t just from the nervousness of being on a motorcycle. She wouldn’t know anyone at Parry’s aside from Alex, and she hated meeting new people. Or rather, she hated meeting an entire group of friends when she was so obviously the outsider, unsophisticated and so, well, rural.

  She heard the growl of the motorcycle as it turned the corner onto her street and she snatched up her coat and purse, then headed out resolutely, locking the door behind her. When she came down the stairs and out the front door, Alex had backed the bike into a spot between two cars, bracing the back wheel against the curb. The kickstand came down and she dismounted, swinging a leg over. She still wore her chaps, and from behind, they hugged her jean-clad bottom. Elly swallowed against the dryness in her throat. Her heartbeat sped up.

  Alex lifted the visor on her helmet. She grinned. “The helmet’s going to flatten your hair a bit. Sorry about that.” She unlocked a case on the back of the bike, flipping it open and taking out a gray helmet with black painted streaks. “Hopefully this fits you all right.”

  Elly took the helmet from her, feeling awkward and inexperienced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Elly licked her lips. “Just…I’ve never been on a motorcycle before. Ever.”

  Alex took the helmet from her, grasping it by the chin straps. She pulled the straps wide. “Hold it like this, slide it over your head.” She mimed the motion, then handed the helmet back.

  Elly lifted the helmet over her head and tried to slide it on. It stuck. She could feel her cheeks flushing, burning as she lifted the helmet off. Her hair was mussed, the strawberry-bl
ond strands sticking to her forehead. “I think it’s too tight,” she said, pushing the hair off her forehead with her forearm.

  “It’s supposed to be tight,” Alex said, taking the helmet from her. “Let’s try again.” She lifted the helmet up and slid it down over Elly’s head. This time it worked. Elly fumbled with the visor, and Alex took her bare hand in her own gloved one, directing Elly’s fingers to a small plastic tab. Elly pushed against it and the visor slid up with a click.

  “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Why not?” Alex adjusted the helmet, tugging down gently on the chin piece before she took the straps and clicked them into place under Elly’s chin. “You’re doing just fine.”

  The helmet seemed to press in on her head, around her crown and against her cheeks, and Elly fought back a sudden sensation of claustrophobia. The visor was up; she could breathe, but her chest felt tight, and her stomach still churned. “What if I fall off?”

  “You won’t.” Alex put an arm over Elly’s shoulder, turning her toward the bike. “You’ll be right behind me, and you can hold on here”—she took Elly’s hand and placed it over the slim handles that lined the sides of the tandem seat—“or you can hold on to me. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

  “No, I can’t.” Elly took her hand off the handle and fumbled with the strap to the helmet, stepping back from the bike.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” Alex said. “I promise.”

  Elly took off the helmet and held it out. “I’ll take my car, follow you there.” With those words, her stomach seemed to calm, the roiling subsiding.

  Alex took the helmet back, letting it hang by her side from one hand. “You’re sure? It honestly isn’t that bad. And I’ll go slow. It’s not too far to Parry’s.”