Surviving Broken Read online

  Surviving Broken

  By

  Beverly Preston

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2014 by Beverly Preston

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Image by Rob Lang

  roblangimages.com

  Edits by SPJ Editing

  Cover designed by Linda Boulanger

  www.TellTaleBookCovers.weebly.com

  Visit Beverly Preston at

  http://www.beverlypreston.com

  To Fate,

  Thank you for always stepping into my life

  To my husband, Don—my perfect someday,

  I love you more than words can ever say

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have many people to thank for embracing this new journey I’m on called my writing career.

  To my husband Don, thank you for being gifted in the ways of loving me just right.

  To Heather Lire, for a coffee date I’ll never forget and for demanding to know more about The Mathews Family. Each and every one of them.

  To my family and friends who support me in my endeavors, your words of encouragement and friendship are priceless. Caylee, my oldest daughter, I treasure your assistance.

  Karen, you are still the synopsis queen.

  Linda Boulanger, thank you for creating a gorgeous cover and making my vision a reality.

  Jennifer Haren, Cara Gadero, Francine Petro, and Pamela Carrion…you ladies rock! Thank you for taking the time out of their busy lives to administrate and promote the fan page for my writing and The Mathew Family Series. Your love and support means the world to me. This crazy journey wouldn’t be the same without you and the BBG’s.

  I would also like to thank Denise Milano Sprung and Amy Barber. Your valuable input made Surviving Broken even better.

  Ellen DeGeneres, I hope you read this someday; without you there would be no dream.

  To everyone who is falling in love with The Mathews Family, I cannot thank you enough for your support and words of encouragement.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Beverly Preston

  About Beverly Preston

  CHAPTER ONE

  JC Mathews categorized the men she found attractive similar to the way she categorized the sizes of her ice cream scoops: like him, love him, or gotta have him. This guy was definitely in the gotta have him category.

  Unfortunately, her first glimpse of him involved smacking her forehead right into his gorgeous face.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” she groaned apologetically. Her fingers flew to her eyebrow. “Oh my God, my sister is going to kill me if I walk down the aisle bleeding!” Panic rose in her voice.

  “No blood,” he assured in a thick Italian accent, inspecting her face.

  His long tapered fingers coasted from her elbows to her wrist as he took a step back to look her over. “JC?”

  She stood eye-to-eye with the striking man she’d nearly pummeled in her haste.

  “Do I know you?” she questioned with uncertainty, gazing into dark eyes stained the color of her morning espresso. I’d definitely remember meeting a man this gorgeous.

  His seductive stare burned over her bare shoulder, caressing her skin. A rogue smile tipped the corner of his full lips. “I’m Luca. Luca Santini. Vincent’s best man.”

  Tall, dark and handsome, all wrapped up in a black Armani tux, complete with an Italian accent. Damn, I love weddings.

  He released her wrist and delicately lifted her chin, examining it for damage. “No harm done. You still look like the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  She rolled her eyes, laughing at his cheesy compliment. “Hopefully we walk down the aisle better than the hallway. I’m trying to find the Bride’s Room.”

  Luca’s accent rolled over her as he draped her arm in his. “Allow me the pleasure.” He led her down the corridor of the old Greek church, stopping in front of the Bride’s Room. Cupping her hand in his, he bent his head and raised the back of her hand to his lips. “I’m sure we’ll be better on the dance floor this evening. It’s nice to finally meet you, JC. I’m going to check on Vincent. I’ll be back in five minutes to escort you.”

  Containing her flirting for later, she only smiled. “Thanks. I’d hate to get lost again.”

  He released her hand and swaggered down the hall.

  Pausing at the open door, JC turned to check out Luca’s rear view. Unfortunately the jacket of his tux concealed his finest assets, but his broad shoulders and tapered waist gave her a perfect indication of what lay beneath the fine layers of clothing.

  She overheard her sister, Tracy, talking to their stepdad, Tom, through the thin door of the bridal room.

  “I hope you know that I think more of you like a dad. Other than my father, there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to walk me down the aisle,” she choked.

  JC burst into the room. “I don’t know if I’d agree with that! Have you seen the smoking hot best man I get to walk down the aisle with? Tall, dark, handsome and that accent...” Laughter and anticipation simmered in her chest. “No offense, Tom, but damn, I might be getting the better end of the deal!”

  “I was going to ask where you’ve been, but that answers that question.” Tracy scoffed, dabbing beneath her eyes for smudges.

  “Sorry, I’m just kidding. Well, actually, I’m not kidding. Holy shit, have you seen him? Of course you have. He’s Vincent’s best man.”

  Her older sister interrupted her ongoing ramble. “Can you give us a minute, JC?”

  “Can I come in? I want in on the pow-wow.” JC quick-stepped toward them and rested her palms on both their shoulders, huddling her head between theirs. “What are we getting all mushy about?”

  Tom stood, wiping the wetness from his cheek. He tugged on Tracy’s hand, pulling her to her feet and wrapped his arms around both girls. “I know I can never replace your father, but I think of all of you as my kids. The day I married your mom I became part of a family. You’re my girls! I love you and I’m so proud of both of you.”

  JC smooched Tom’s cheek and rubbed the lip-gloss off with her thumb. “Oh, come on, you know we think of you as our dad, but, can we finish bearing our souls after the ceremony? Mom’s gonna get mad if we take any longer.”

  Tom nodded in agreement. His typically tan face flushed with sentiment.

  Right on cue, Canon in D Major rang through the hallway.

  JC delicately embraced her sister, whispering in her ear, “Helios is smiling down on you. It’s a perfect sunny day. You look absolutely breathtaking.” She straightened, smoothing out the front of her gorgeous black dress, adjusting the raspberry sash.

  Luca appeared in the doorway. “It’s time. They’re ready, Tracy.”

  He extended his hand to JC. She glided toward him and clutched to Luca’s arm. Glancing back over her shoulder, she raised her eyebrows suggestively. Fanning her face with her hand, she mouthed, Oh, my God, he’s so hot.

  “What are we going to do with her?” Tom muttered to Tracy.

  JC’s nerves kicked in as they ambled down the corridor ar
m in arm. She inhaled deeply, blowing out a heavy sigh between pursed lips.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes,” she admitted with a nod, staring into dark eyes. Talking in a whisper, she continued. “My sister’s a bit of a perfectionist. All the planning and everything she’s put into this wedding…I just don’t want to fall, trip, throw up. I want this day to be perfect for her. She deserves it.”

  Luca tucked a loose caramel curl behind her ear, gently tracing her lobe. “You can hold onto me as tight as you want. I won’t let you fall.”

  His warm breath tickled her neck, sending goose bumps skittering across her shoulder and down her arm. He pulled her close to his lean frame. The citrusy bite of his cologne flooded her senses.

  Gaining control of her wits, JC snickered at his forwardness. “Italian men. You’re all the same.”

  He countered roguishly, “Si. Bello, intelligente, molto buon appassionato.”

  JC threw her head back, bursting in a hushed laughter at Luca’s self-portrayal of a handsome, smart, very good lover. “Si,” she admitted, taking in his square jaw and thick head of hair trimmed tight to his nape. “Very handsome.”

  A dazzling smile broadened across his gorgeous face.

  Reaching the end of the corridor, she heard squeals of delight. “Aunt JC! Aunt JC!”

  JC’s older brother, John, tried to hush his twin sons’ excitement. “Shhh,” he warned, raising his finger to his lips.

  Thomas cupped his little fingers to his lips, whispering out the side of his hand. “Aunt JC, you wook butiful.”

  Richard tugged on her finger and pointed at a woman sitting at the end of a pew. “Aunt JC, see that lady in the red dress? She called me a flower boy.” He scowled in disapproval.

  JC bent over and tapped her finger to his nose. “You mean the lady in the purple dress?” He nodded. “It’s okay, she’s kinda old. She doesn’t know being a flower bearer is the new in thing. We had to explain it to your daddy too.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, giving her brother the I told you so look. Their sister chose a simple wedding party, consisting of the maid of honor and best man. When she asked John if his twin boys Richard and Thomas could serve as flower bearers, he snickered.

  Richard and Thomas were all boy. At almost four years old, they could already ride a bike, swim, throw a ball, and there was no doubt John and his wife, Shayla, would teach them to snowboard over the winter.

  Taking each of the boys by the finger, JC twirled them around, inspecting their tuxedos. “You both look so handsome.”

  Richard peered down and pointed his toe, showing off his shiny black shoes. “Daddy says it’s for monkeys.”

  John cautioned, “I can’t say anything in front of them anymore.”

  Thomas pulled on her dress, peeking shyly at Luca with a slight frown. “Is he your boyfwiend?”

  “No.” JC bent to adjust his tie. “How many times do I have to tell you? You and Richard are the only men in my life.”

  John gave her a warning glance. “That’s real funny until they repeat it in public.”

  Luca smiled, formally shaking their little hands. “My name is Luca. I’m Vincent’s friend.”

  Richard stared up at Luca with a wrinkled lip. “You sound funny.”

  ****

  Eighty guests attended the ceremony. Their mother, Tess, and step-dad, Tom, offered Tracy the wedding of her dreams. She could’ve had a celebrity-wedding planner, designer gown, and gourmet chefs. Hell, Tom could’ve pulled strings and gotten her favorite band to play at the reception, but this was the someday Tracy dreamed of. Her sister had no interest in an extravagant, lavish, formal wedding. Her dreams included the man she loved beyond words standing by her side, and their family and closest friends bearing witness to their intimate I do’s.

  Although, Tracy admitted Maroon Five had been very tempting.

  The cathedral oozed old-world charm. Stained glass windows, dark wooden pews, and intricate scenes created from colorful mosaic tiles covered the interior of the dome. Sweet scents from the bouquets of white roses and magenta Judas boughs masked the slight whiff of dusky aged timber.

  Tracy’s elegant white dress was made of structured organza and tulle. The dipped neckline and corset bodice accentuated her petite voluptuous figure. Baby’s-breath and Judas pedals encircled the tight bun of rich dark hair at the nape of her neck.

  Vincent dressed in an all black Armani tux, adorned with a single white rose.

  Richard and Thomas marched single file along the white carpet, both on their best behavior. Richard, being twelve minutes older, led the way, tossing handfuls of Judas pedals into the air. Thomas reached into the basket, retrieving one pedal at a time, holding it to his nose to sniff it before throwing it over his shoulder.

  Keeping with tradition, the prompt service was touching and beautiful. Typically, JC never cried at weddings, she was usually too busy searching through a sea of handsome faces, but she shed tears of happiness for her sister and Vincent.

  The wedding party shuffled outside to the flagstone terrace for photos. The photographer snapped pictures for thirty minutes as the sun sank into the Aegean Sea. The pictures would be perfect.

  JC felt the burn of an impenetrable gaze as she made her way through the crowd of blissfully happy couples. Taking refuge from the late day sun, she paused beside an aged marble column covered in climbing bougainvillea. Peering between the delicate pink clusters, she easily picked out Luca’s fit silhouette striding toward her.

  As he got closer she could see the curve of his cocky smile. Luca wore an air of sexiness that would make any woman take notice.

  “Are you searching for me?” he asked, offering a glass of wine. His stare slid down her body before locking on her face.

  Her cheeks heated.

  She stamped a saucy grin on her face. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” he mocked, cupping her bent elbow in the palm of his hand. “Maybe you should dance with me.”

  “The music hasn’t started yet.”

  He leaned in close, lifting a dark brow. His eyes looked skyward darting side to side as if he’s listening to something in the distance. “That must be the sound of your heartbeat I hear.”

  JC enjoyed being chased by a man and she was positively taking an interest in Luca Santini. Though he bordered on the verge of arrogant, as the evening lingered on, she found his charm and good looks irresistible. Having no shame, he pursued her outright, brushing his hand against her arm and shoulder, and flirting relentlessly in Italian. She could only make out half the words, but it didn’t matter. The language itself slipped off his tongue like foreplay.

  As if the Italian accent wasn’t enough to seal the deal, the man could dance too. He led her around the dance floor all night. Luca only relinquished her hand when her stepdad, Tom, stood beside him and cleared his throat loudly at the end of the evening.

  Even though JC was eighteen when Tom first came into their lives, she thought of him as a father. He relished the idea of being part of a family and took the position of a husband and father seriously. Her mother was the first woman he’d ever truly fallen in love with. They’d been inseparable ever since and the term “head-over-heels” was an understatement. They’d married four months after meeting and graced the cover of every magazine due to Tom’s A-list acting career. Together they were an unstoppable force, bringing out the best in each other.

  Taking JC in his arms, he small-talked his way around the dance floor before nonchalantly asking, “Your mom wants to know if you’re driving back to the house with us tonight.”

  Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she hid the heat of embarrassment rising to her cheeks. “I’m not sure. And you are so full of it. Mom isn’t asking. You are.”

  Busted, Tom pulled his lips to the side in a grin. “True enough. She won’t sleep if you decide not to come home and don’t tell her.”

  JC poked him in the ribs as they danced. “I’m twenty-five. You don’t need to wai
t up for me.”

  Tom gave her a stern look. “I know I don’t need to wait up for you, but honestly I just can’t help it. What do you know about Luca Santini? He seems to have made you his number one priority this evening. Although, he made a point of introducing himself to me, and he did charm your mother. Little bit of a suck up if you ask me. Besides, don’t you have a rule about this?”

  “You would’ve never survived our high school years.” JC chortled. “And yes, I do have rules, but I bend them once in great while.”

  The music stopped, but Tom continued dancing, waiting for the next song to start. He wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easy.

  “Let’s see, I know that Luca and Vincent were best friends when they were young. He moved to California to attended college in the states. Tracy and Vincent hired him a few months ago as marketing director overseeing the Giovanni vineyard. He’s Italian! You know how much I love that.”

  Tom scoffed and shook his head. “If you don’t come home, please remember John and Shayla are making breakfast at nine tomorrow morning. Don’t be late, okay? Your mom will be upset if you’re not there.”

  ****

  JC stuck to certain rules or codes of conduct when it came to dating. Sleeping with men on the first date was a big no-no. The self-imposed rule saved her from embarrassment on more than one occasion. However, she bent it, broke it, and threw it out the window when it came to staying with Luca that night. He wore an air of sexiness that would make it impossible for any hot blooded woman to say no to, including JC.

  Unsure of the proper should I take him home for breakfast etiquette, she tentatively extended the invite. Bringing a date home was another rule breaker. Failed judgment seemed to be stacking up in a hurry. She’d slept with him on the first date, faked at least one orgasm, and agreed to spend the weekend with him. Luca waited precisely one minute after sex, the second time, to ask her to stay with him in Tuscany over the long weekend. Asking someone that question right after sex was like cheating, playing unfairly. She hadn’t even caught her breath yet and responded without thinking, falling for the, I’d love to take you to this great little vineyard line.