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  Down for Her

  A Riches-to-Rags Steamy Romance

  Melissa Chambers

  This story is a fictional account derived solely from the author’s imagination. Any similarities to any other situations, stories, persons, or characters is purely coincidental.

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  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in reviews.

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  Copyright 2021 Melissa Chambers. All rights reserved.

  First Edition March 2021

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  Edited by Blue Otter Editing

  Cover image from depositphotos

  Contents

  Available from Melissa Chambers

  1. Kylie

  2. Brett

  3. Kylie

  4. Brett

  5. Kylie

  6. Brett

  7. Brett

  8. Kylie

  9. Brett

  10. Kylie

  11. Kylie

  12. Kylie

  13. Brett

  14. Kylie

  15. Brett

  16. Kylie

  17. Kylie

  18. Kylie

  19. Brett

  20. Kylie

  21. Kylie

  22. Kylie

  23. Brett

  24. Kylie

  25. Brett

  26. Kylie

  27. Brett

  28. Brett

  29. Kylie

  30. Brett

  31. Kylie

  32. Brett

  33. Brett

  34. Kylie

  EXCERPT FROM UP FOR SECONDS: DESTINY DUNES BOOK TWO

  Keep Reading

  Review

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  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Available from Melissa Chambers

  Destiny Dunes Series:

  Down for Her

  Up for Seconds (available for preorder now)

  Coming Around (available for preorder now)

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  Love Along Hwy 30A Series:

  Seaside Sweets

  Seacrest Sunsets

  Seagrove Secrets

  WaterColor Wishes

  Grayton Beach Dreams

  * * *

  Young Adult titles:

  The Summer Before Forever (Before Forever #1)

  Falling for Forever (Before Forever #2)

  Courting Carlyn (Standalone)

  For my mother, who showed me through her example that if you want to try something new, you just do it

  1

  Kylie

  As I open the car door to step into my new life, a wall of heat thrusts itself onto me. I could hold out a cup in this dense Florida humidity for a few minutes and have a full glass of liquid. But the weather is the least complicated obstacle I have to overcome.

  As I shoulder the bag that has ridden shotgun beside me since I left Oklahoma yesterday, a guy among some twentysomethings on the porch of the identical housing unit beside the one I’ve been assigned gives a catcall. “Hey, blondie, screw them, come see us. We’ve got beer.”

  I wonder what he means by them? I only have one roommate. Val is her name, according to the girl who checked me in at the Destiny Dunes housing office.

  As I slip in the key card and step into my new home, the distinct smell of burnt rice assaults my nostrils and turns my grin into a grimace. At least three days’ worth of dirty plates with caked-on goo litter the glass coffee table, and long tube socks drape across the faux-leather recliner. Dang, Val. I’m not the biggest clean freak on the planet, but even I have standards.

  Those socks are humongous. A pair of super-sized sneakers topples over one another beside the recliner. Either she’s got really big feet or her boyfriend is here. I hope he’s not an asshole. That’s my cynicism talking. But I have a right to be cynical about men right now.

  Val must be home, because I hear the shower running. I start to walk into the kitchen, but something scurrying sends me stumbling backward. Even though I have a total of twenty-four dollars and sixty-four cents to my name, I’ll most definitely be investing a portion of that into some sort of humane mousetrap.

  I hear the shower turn off. “Dammit, Val,” comes a guy’s Southern drawl. “If you take my towel one more time, I’m gonna whip your ass.”

  I stiffen. If this is Val’s boyfriend, I need to have a talk with her, because he’s an ass.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve done any laundry either?” says the guy. Steps sound down the hallway, and then I hear what sounds like the opening of a dryer door. “Empty, of course.” The dryer door closes, and then footsteps come my way. “You were here all damn day and you couldn’t have—” The guy freezes in place as he catches sight of me.

  Water drips down a six-pack of abs before my eyes. Words and phrases swirl around my brain, but my tongue doesn’t seem to be working. I try desperately not to look farther south, but it’s like being told not to scratch an itch.

  He smooths his wet hair back, the muscles in his forearms and biceps colliding. “Can I help you?”

  I look down, because boy, could he.

  Bad Kylie. We will be having none of that. I am here to take my glorious job as pool girl and figure out my life. The last thing I need right now is another man. “You could start by putting on some clothes, please.”

  He gives me a lopsided grin that takes him from everyday hunk to full-on swoony heartbreaker. “No one’s forcing you to look.” He heads toward the kitchen, giving me a blessed view of two very scrumptious ass cheeks. “If you’re looking for Val, he’s in his bedroom.”

  His bedroom? Housing roomed me with a guy? I’m as progressive as the next person, but this seems a bit assuming. I hear the sound of kitchen drawers opening and closing. “Dammit. Are you serious?”

  Stepping toward the kitchen, I peek in to find him rubbing a kitchen washcloth over his head and then across his shoulder and down his arm. I jog myself awake from my trance. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Brett.”

  I look away, feeling busted for staring. “You’re a friend of Val’s?”

  “Not at the moment. Ask me later, when I’m dry and this air-conditioning isn’t blowing on my wet ass.”

  I rub my temple. “Okay, listen, I don’t mean to be a bitch or anything, but we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules.”

  He stops drying his chest and gives me the side-eye. “Ground rules?”

  “I’m not sure why Housing has placed me with a man. I’m a forward thinker, so I will learn to get used to that if I must. But what I don’t have to get used to is naked men walking around my home—at least ones who don’t live here.”

  He narrows his gaze at me. “Who are you?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I am Val’s new roommate.” I lift my eyebrows in expectation of an apology.

  He rests his naked ass against the counter, covering his junk with the washrag. “Who told you that you were Val’s new roommate?”

  “Lauren in Housing,” I say, as if everyone should know who Lauren in Housing is.

  “All right. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but let me get some clothes on and we’ll go down to Housing and get this straightened out.”

  He moves past me and heads down the hallway. I follow him, trying to keep my gaze from his ass, but damn. “I’m sorry, what needs to be straightened out?”

  He raps on a bedroom door. “Val,” he says, and then opens it to find it empty. “Son of a bitch. He must have gone on down to the beach, which is why he took my damn towel.” He goes into a bedroom and opens a dresser drawer, pulling out a pair of boxer briefs like he lives here or something. “Th
ey’ve assigned you to a housing unit that already has two people assigned to it.”

  I shift my weight from one leg to another, my mind searching everywhere for a nugget of knowledge that would help this make sense. “What?”

  He opens his arms wide, the muscles in his biceps bulging. “This is my room. I’m Val’s roommate.”

  I glance down the hallway at the number of doors, knowing the answer to my next question before I ask it. “Are there three bedrooms?”

  “Nope,” he says, pulling a pair of shorts up his legs.

  I take a deep breath. “I’ll just go back down to Housing and let them know they gave me the wrong key card or the wrong unit number or whatever.”

  “Did they give you unit number 1624?”

  I nod.

  “Did you use that key card to get into this unit?”

  I nod again.

  “Then it looks like somebody down there messed up.”

  “But Lauren told me that my roommate’s name was Val.”

  He pulls a T-shirt over his head. “Therein lies the problem. When did you interview for your job here?”

  “Last week.” I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “Why?”

  He sits on the bed, putting on his shoes. “Didn’t you need to give a two-week notice at your current job?”

  I shuffle my feet, looking down at them. “No, I didn’t.”

  “What job did you take here?”

  Frustration mounts in my chest. “Shouldn’t we be getting down to Housing?”

  He grabs a phone off the dresser and peers at it. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “It’s after five. I hope they’re not closed.”

  “Maybe someone’s still there,” I say, but in my heart, I know it’s not true. Lauren was the only one in sight when I was there a few minutes ago, and she said she was going to be out of there as soon as she was done with me.

  He picks up his keys. “Let’s hope so. If not, you might need to find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

  “I don’t have anywhere else to stay tonight,” I say, the volume in my tone rising.

  “What about a friend or something?”

  I rub my temple, my chest tightening. “You’re the only person I know here.”

  He lowers his chin, his hazel eyes bearing into mine. “You don’t know me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Come on. Let’s just go and see if anyone’s there.”

  I follow him down the hallway, my heart on pins and needles, because unless I can find a hotel room for about ten dollars, I’m completely sunk.

  2

  Brett

  Sometimes I feel like I’m cursed. All I wanted to do was get showered, have a goddamn towel sitting there when I got out, and then open the one damn beer I allow myself on weekend nights. And now I’m in my vehicle driving over to Housing, knowing there’s not gonna be anyone there.

  The blonde huddles close to the door panel of my truck, cutting her eyes at me like I’m gonna bite her. Not that I wouldn’t mind biting her. She’s nice-looking. Despite her bossy attitude, there’s something soft about her face. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.

  She catches me looking and glances around the inside of my truck. “What kind of car is this?”

  “International Scout.”

  “It’s…old.”

  “’Seventy-five model.”

  “Does it break down a lot?”

  “Nothing I can’t fix.”

  I stare at the road as we ride in silence, but I can feel her eyes on me. I meet her gaze and she glances away quickly. I’ve never seen so much leg fill up my front seat.

  I pull into the empty lot. “This is not looking good.”

  She is out of the car and hustling up to the entryway before I can get the engine cut off. She tugs on the door but it doesn’t open.

  I meet up with her, and she turns to me, panic in her eyes. “Is there an after-hours number I can call or something?”

  I glance around. “There’s maintenance, but they don’t really do much unless your toilet’s overflowing.”

  Her expression crumbles as the color drains from her face.

  I shut my eyes because I can’t take that wounded-bird expression. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Just get a cheap hotel. There’s a dozen around here.” She bites on her lip and nods, her eyes starting to water. Shit. I let out a deep breath. “Is there something I can help you with? Name of a hotel?”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Did your wallet get stolen or something?”

  “No, I have it, there’s just not anything in it. Listen, I’m sorry that I crashed into your Friday night. Just take me back to your place, and I’ll get my car.”

  As I follow her to my car, I stare at the back of her head like it’s gonna give me answers. Why would she not have a credit card in her wallet? She looks like the kind of woman who takes really good care of herself. She dresses like the moms who I talk to at work about their kids’ occupational therapy plans and strategies—athletic clothes, but expensive-looking ones like they get from one of those stores that has fruit in its name.

  Whatever is going on with her is none of my business. But I’m not the kind of guy who can just walk away from a lady in need. My mom would knock me upside the head.

  I regret my next words before they come out of my mouth. “Do you need a place to stay?”

  She meets my gaze, those worried blue eyes cutting through my heart. She looks away. “No, I’m fine. Just...let’s go back to your place.”

  I put her in the truck, and we ride in silence. Her eyebrows have formed a permanent band of worry. She stares straight through the asphalt, her mind looking to be working a hundred miles an hour. She’s so worried about her next steps that she’s forgotten to be wary of me.

  She gets out of my truck and walks to her car, fumbling with her keys. She’s such a ball of nerves that she drops them on the ground, and her hand shakes as she reaches down to pick them up.

  I beg my feet to go toward the front door, leaving her to deal with her own shit, but they simply won’t go. Cursed. “Look, you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

  She frowns at me.

  I roll my eyes. “And I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “What about Val?”

  “What the hell will he care? You’ll be in my room.”

  She scratches her eyebrow. “Is he…cool?”

  I cock my head to the side. “Do you mean is he going to sneak into your bed in the middle of the night?”

  It’s her turn to roll her eyes, then she concedes. “Well, is he?”

  “No. He’s not like that.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “What is he like?”

  “Gay.”

  “Oh,” she says, considering this new info like it’s a game changer, and then she closes her eyes and shakes her head quickly. “This is just ridiculous. I’ll figure something else out.”

  “What, you don’t trust me?” I say, giving her the grin that usually makes pissed-off women forget they’re mad.

  She purses her lips, looking me up and down. “No.”

  I toss up my hands, backing away. “No skin off my back. Good luck finding somewhere to stay.” I turn around and walk inside, trying to play it cool, but just as I’m about to close the door behind me, my cold, withered-up heart experiences a temporary shock of warmth.

  She lifts her chin, swiping at her eyes as she marches around to her driver’s-side door. She gets inside and sits, hands on the wheel, looking lost and desperate.

  “Shit,” I say aloud, my need to help the women in my life nudging me back out the door. I can just see the look on Tori’s face when she finds out I’ve taken in a stray for the weekend.

  I walk around to her window, peering in to find her with her head against the steering wheel, eyes closed. I rap gently on the window.

  She sits up, eyes wide, and then powers the window down. “
I’m sorry. I’m going.”

  “Come on in. I’m not a serial killer and neither is Val.”

  She narrows her gaze at me, seeming to try her best to justify walking into this house with me.

  Tiff from up the street walks down the sidewalk of my front lawn, grinning at me. “Hey, Brett.”

  Kylie looks away from me, her expression worried and defeated.

  “Tiff, come here,” I say.

  Her grin widens as she comes my way. “What’s up? You going to the bonfire later?”

  I grin back. “We’ll see about that. Do you have a free couch tonight? This is Kylie. She needs a place to stay for the weekend.”

  Kylie waves her hands. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m just gonna—”

  “I wish I did,” Tiff says. “My girlfriends are coming in for the weekend. We’re gonna be on top of each other.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “You should come over.”

  I look her up and down. “I damn well may take you up on that.”

  Tiff winks and starts to walk away.

  “Hey,” I say. “I’m trying to convince Kylie that it’s safe to stay here with Val and me. Tell her I’m not gonna stab her to death in her sleep if she stays here.”

  Tiff walks over and peers into the car at Kylie. “Are you afraid of him?”