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    Come And Get It: Small Town Bachelor Romance, #6
    Come And Get It: Small Town Bachelor Romance, #6
    Come And Get It: Small Town Bachelor Romance, #6
    Ebook118 pages1 hour

    Come And Get It: Small Town Bachelor Romance, #6

    By Abby Knox

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    About this ebook

    After seven years behind bars, notorious local bad boy Paul has only one thing on his mind: to pay a visit to the judge who sentenced him. A man with nothing left to lose, he cares nothing about the consequences, or who might be left broken ... or heartbroken. Or so he tells himself.

    County Judge Drea shrinks away from nothing, including the news that one of the town's worst criminals she once sentenced is about to be released. Although her family is bent out of shape that she has no plans to protect herself, the fearless Drea has other plans.

    WARNING: This forbidden-love conclusion to the Small Town Bachelor Romance series has the whole town turned upside down until the heart-warming happily-ever-after. 18 and over due to graphic sexual content and language.

     

    This is the sixth and final book in the Small-Town Bachelor Romance series. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthor Abby Knox, LLC
    Release dateJan 6, 2021
    ISBN9781393624769
    Come And Get It: Small Town Bachelor Romance, #6
    Author

    Abby Knox

    Abby Knox writes feel-good, high-heat romance that she herself would want to read. Readers have described her stories as quirky, sexy, adorable, and hilarious. All of that adds up to Abby’s overall goal in life: to be kind and to have fun! Abby’s favorite tropes include: Forced proximity, opposites attract, grumpy/sunshine, age gap, boss/employee, fated mates/insta-love, and more. Abby is heavily influenced by Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Gilmore Girls, and LOST. But don't worry, she won’t ever make you suffer like Luke & Lorelai. If any or all of that connects with you, then you came to the right place.

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      Book preview

      Come And Get It - Abby Knox

      Chapter 1

      Paul

      It may look like I’m leaving this shithole a free man, but I’m headed straight into another prison.

      Fucking Middleburg.

      My hometown, where everybody knows what I did to end up on the inside.

      Where I have no family farm left to go to. No place to live.

      I take nothing with me from my cell—not the small stack of tattered paperback books generously given to me by the prison librarian. Not even my paper and pencil, which I was permitted to own after I’d proven to be a model prisoner.

      Not even her replies to my letters. Apart from reading my way through one end of the prison library to the other, reading and re-reading her letters got me through my time here. Never received a single letter from anyone, except from her.

      I want zero things to remind me of my life behind bars.

      This morning, I re-read her most recent letter before crumpling it up and dumping it in the trash, along with the rest of them.

      Her challenge is burned into my mind. Big talker. Come on, then. Come and get it. I fucking dare you.

      Everything she said to me needs to disappear. Can’t have any evidence hanging around for what I’m about to do.

      Ain’t anybody coming to give you a lift, Chet? If not, you can call for a ride, says the prison guard, with a bloated air of generosity.

      He was a real douchebag back in high school—even worse than I was—so I know he’s enjoyed to no end seeing me locked up. He calls me by my old name, and I don’t bother correcting him. He ain’t part of my new life.

      His head gestures toward the handset on the wall after he removes my cuffs. No more three hots and a cot for you on the public’s dime, ol’ Chet. The last thing the taxpayers of the State of Iowa have for you here is a free phone call; take it or leave it.

      Oh yeah, he’s a real smarmy son of a bitch.

      The old me would have laid him out flat in a heartbeat.

      Even now, I’d love nothing more than to sucker punch him in his little piggy nose. All these years on the inside, looking up from my mess tray and seeing that shit-eating grin leering at me from the corner, I never once gave him the satisfaction of starting anything with him. I told myself I didn’t need to, since I had beat his ass plenty of times in high school.

      That piece of shit is child’s play. As big and jacked as prison has made me, that pencil neck ain’t worth the effort.

      I grit out, I’m walking.

      The guard wheezes out a dismissive laugh. Good luck with that, buddy.

      You ain’t my buddy, fuckstick, is what I want to say,

      but I don’t want to give him any excuse to escalate his fuckstick behavior.

      I hear the bars clank closed, a jarring but familiar sound I hated at first, but have become hardened to.

      Now, I’ll never have to hear them again.

      As long as I’m careful.

      The walk will help me keep myself under control until I get to where I’m going.

      Seven years of frustration is a lot to let loose on a person.

      Even if she is the judge who put me away. Even if she’s asking for it—for every second of what I’m about to do to her.

      Chapter 2

      Drea

      Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?

      My younger sister Ever is sweet but overly concerned for my safety.

      I’m perfectly fine. Nobody is coming to hurt me. You can go.

      She eyes me suspiciously and rubs her swollen tummy.

      All right, but I don’t feel good about this.

      I smirk at her. And what are you going to do if he does try something? Threaten to give birth right here on the braided rug?

      She cocks her head to the side. Very funny. I just wish you would agree to stay with Logan and me for a few days. Just to be on the safe side. You are the judge who put him in prison for years, you know.

      I cross my arms in front of my chest. I’ve sentenced a lot of criminals.

      But he’s the worst that Middleburg has ever seen!

      I laugh. Are you forgetting that cold case murder that was just solved last year?

      OK, besides that. And that hasn’t even gone to trial yet. This one did, and he’s a bad guy.

      I could tell her she’s just being as small-minded as all the old-timers who drink coffee at the bowling alley every morning, judging everybody who ever did so much as jaywalk in this town. I should remind her that the man has paid his debt to society and has the right to be free now.

      But something stops me. I can’t protest too much or she’ll figure it out.

      So I just have to play her off with my midwestern compulsion to never be a burden.

      While I relish the idea of a few sleepless nights in your tiny house by the river with your very randy husband making you moan all night long, it’s a hard pass.

      Looking at Ever’s face, she’s not denying it. She still bites her lip and blushes just thinking about her doting husband. A part of me wishes for that feeling, that feeling of being looked after and fussed over by the person who shares my bed and my life. Sometimes it hurts to watch Ever and my brother-in-law Logan together.

      I’m jealous but I don’t show it. I’m the stalwart big sister. The protector. I’m also the judge who has served as officiant for every wedding in this town in recent years, and it’s starting to feel a little more raw every time I’m asked to do it.

      But I don’t say no. I’m the sweet and accommodating judge everybody wants for their wedding, the first female justice to grace the courtrooms of our charming courthouse, and the youngest elected justice in the history of this rural eastern Iowa county.

      Ever tries every other angle to get me to leave with her, but I’m staying put.

      I kiss her on the cheek before she leaves. If it makes you feel better, I’ll call for a patrol car to drive by sometime tonight. And I promise I’ll call you if the boogeyman shows up, OK?

      She pouts at me and I finally have to shut the door to compel her to leave my front porch.

      And to think she used to be the wild one who needed my protection as a child.

      When she’s gone, I draw myself a bath with lavender salts and have a nice soak to relax my tired feet.

      After my bath, I pad around the house, closing all the windows on this cool summer night, and draw all the curtains shut.

      All except one: my bedroom window.

      I leave it wide open while I watch some TV on my laptop.

      Any woman in her right mind, alone in a big, old isolated house in the country would close up every last window and lock them before drifting off at night, but I am not in my right mind.

      No, I’m ready to completely lose my mind and my whole self.

      Just as soon as my partner in crime gets here.

      I pause the movie I’m watching because I can’t concentrate on it.

      I open the side table drawer and pull out the letter.

      I have read it over and over and over again. The edges are frayed and the writing is smeared along

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