Opal: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Jewels Cafe Book 4) Read online

  Opal:

  A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance

  Candace Wondrak

  © 2019 Candace Wondrak

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Books by Candace Wondrak are only available at Amazon. If you are reading elsewhere, please note it is an illegal, pirated copy, uploaded without my permission. I, the author, nor the distributor received payment for the copy, and if prosecuted violation comes with a fine of up to $250,000. Please do not pirate books.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  My eyes bulged as I stared at the laptop screen. I’d been staring at it for over an hour now, fighting off a headache. It was ten in the morning, and I should’ve gotten plenty of sleep, I should be raring to go. I had multiple chapters to edit and tweak before they were due back to my editor for final approval. I was twenty-four years old, living on my own in a cute, quaint town, and I was a writer.

  That should be enough to make any twenty-four-year-old happy, right? It would be, if that was it. But it wasn’t.

  I was up all night, lying in bed, cursing the fact that I’d signed a one-year lease on one half of this duplex. My friend, Sofia, warned me that sharing a wall with strangers would be like our college dorm experience all over again, but I didn’t listen. Mostly because Silver Springs had seemed like a perfect place on paper. And it was—cute and modern, with just a touch of antique. I loved it, I did. Really.

  What I did not love, however, was the neighbors I was stuck with. Three of them, to be exact. Three adult men who were currently enjoying making my life miserable. Ace, Brock, and Kent. They were ridiculously hot, but now that I was older and no longer a hormonal teenager, their strikingly good looks, looks that were so smoking you might need a pantie change, did not make up for their annoying, jerkish actions.

  For example, playing loud music all night until the sun itself rose.

  I heaved a sigh, a certain catchy song in my head. They’d played it on repeat for at least an hour last night. I had no idea what they did for a living, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to meet my writing deadline without stressing too much about it. That, apparently, was too much to hope for.

  Ugh, it was times like these when I regretted moving to Silver Springs. Granted, it was move out of Sofia’s place or watch her and her fiancé be all lovey-dovey twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week. Gag me. No, it was finally time to move out, time to get my own place. Leave it to me to end up between a rock and a hard place…in this case, my lease and my lovely neighbors, who all had rock-hard abs, but that was beside the point.

  It wasn’t like I tried to ogle them when they did yard work shirtless. It just happened sometimes.

  I closed my laptop, getting away from my desk as I wandered into the bathroom. I grabbed some migraine pills and popped two of them once I got myself some water. A habit after moving here. No, not just a habit. A necessity. I didn’t think I’d gotten a decent, full-night’s sleep since moving out of Sofia’s place.

  My cell rang, and I snaked it out of my back pocket to see who it was. My head pounded at the ringtone, but I couldn’t help but smile to myself when I saw it was my bestie calling. I answered it, plopping down on the couch as I spoke with a grin, “Speak of the devil…”

  “The devil? We both know I…” Sofia trailed off. “No, no, you’re totally right. I’m the devil. You never texted me back last night.”

  “I didn’t want to bug you.”

  “Oh, come on. We both know I’m your only friend. If you can’t text me at all hours of the day and night to complain about your dickbags of neighbors, who can you text?”

  I chuckled, but that chuckle died in the back of my throat once I realized how sad it was that she was right. Sofia was my only friend. Granted, it wasn’t like I’d gone out in Silver Springs to try to make friends or even acquaintances, but still. I had a writing deadline, a novel to finish, and that was my priority. Not friends. Besides, friends came and went. Sofia was the only one who stuck around after high school and college.

  “I feel like I’m bugging you,” I said.

  “Only a little,” she said. “Besides, I like hearing you complain about your douchebags of neighbors as much as the next chick. It just means your revenge will be awesome.”

  “I’m not getting back at them,” I told her, not for the first time, and meaning it. This wasn’t some high school rom-com where the main leads constantly get back at one another and then, in the end, fall madly and deeply in love. There would no falling in love here. Not even a little.

  This was life, and I just wanted to pretend they didn’t exist and get on with my own life. Was that too much to ask?

  “Oh-kay, Opal, whatever you say.”

  “My deadline is coming up fast,” I said, sitting forward and pinching the bridge of my nose. “I have to get my stuff done, otherwise…” Otherwise, I wasn’t sure what would happen. I’d lose the book deal? Heck no to that. “I have to get it done.”

  “You sound like you’re dragging, and if those dickheads kept you up all night again, you’re going to need some caffeine. There’s got to be a coffee shop in town somewhere. Take your laptop, go there, and get some work done. Be the stereotypical writer.” Sofia giggled into the phone, and I rolled my eyes.

  Sofia knew coffee wasn’t my favorite, but man…at this rate, maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to take my laptop to some tiny coffee shop and just work. I could get away from my house and my neighbors and focus on what had to be done.

  “You’re right,” I relented.

  “Of course I’m right, bitch. I’m always right.” Sofia laughed at herself before adding, “Text me later, okay? And remember, if you happen to run into any of those dickheads—”

  “I’ll give them a piece of my mind,” I firmly stated, hanging up after saying bye. Honestly, I’d thought about marching over to their door and yelling at them a thousand times now, but somehow I always got too anxious over it. Storming over and yelling at three cute guys wasn’t my thing. Plus, you know, they were kind of jerks. They’d probably only respond by being worse neighbors than they already were.

  Sofia was right, though. I had to grow a spine when it came to my hot but insanely annoying neighbors. No tit-for-tat, though. I had to handle this like an adult.

  An adult. Me. Still felt weird thinking that, because even though I was twenty-four, sometimes I felt like a kid. No one told you that when you grew up you wouldn’t feel old. Things just kind of were.

  I wandered back into my bedroom and grabbed my laptop, shoving it into its carrying case. I practically just rolled out of bed, threw my brown hair up, and slipped on some leggings. I looked like a mess, but I didn’t care. Looking good for other people was so high school; I was more into comfort now. Oh, and I usually wore hoodies everywhere, when the weather permitted.

  Soon enough, my shoes were on and I was out the door, Googling where the nearest coffee shop was. I hadn’t spent too much time in town, mostly because I was a recluse who just wanted to write, so I was clue
less as to where everything was.

  My eyes were on my phone, on the search results as I turned to head down the shared driveway, a thick patch of concrete I was forced to share with my neighbors. Not that far, actually. A mom and pop place called Jewels Cafe. A few miles away, but it was a nice day outside, considering what month it was. I could walk—

  That was the last thought in my head as I took a few steps down the driveway, ready to head to the sidewalk and find this Jewels Cafe…at least, until I saw one of my neighbors exiting his half of the duplex at the exact same time.

  Ace.

  Ace was pretty much the stereotypical jock. Big, strong, beefy muscles—not to mention a pair of blue eyes and a blonde mop of hair that when put together with his height would make any woman swoon. A few years older than me, but it was clear he never left his partying phase after graduating college.

  Or, heck, maybe I gave him too much credit by assuming he and his roommates graduated college.

  Today his thick arms were covered in a t-shirt, and it looked like he was heading into his garage to get to the car. The other two roommates were gone, off doing whatever the heck it was they did during the day when they weren’t bugging the crap out of me, which left me alone with him. We lived on a quiet street, anyone’s suburban nightmare. It would’ve been a decent place, save for the neighbors.

  Whether it was Ace who saw me first or vice versa, it didn’t matter. We both stopped in our tracks the moment our eyes locked, and I felt an annoyed tick creep up the back of my neck as I stared at his handsome, chiseled face. The man needed a good shave; his stubble was just a bit too long, but maybe that was me nitpicking. I’d been told on numerous occasions I did that.

  “I heard you guys last night,” I remarked dryly, slowly moving to the center of the shared driveway. “It sounds like you have a party every night. Aren’t you getting a little old for that?” I came off sounding a bit bitchy, but to be honest, I was running on very little sleep.

  Ace ran a hand through his blonde hair, his eyes like sparkling sapphires as he studied me, wearing an unimpressed expression. Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t the typical girl-next-door type. Makeup and all that was not my thing, and my hair was usually pulled back one way or another. “I think you should keep your nose in your own business, neighbor,” he said, practically growling it out. He didn’t sound happy, but maybe that was because he was also running on little sleep. Or maybe he didn’t like being called out for his childish actions.

  “My name is Opal,” I said, not knowing why. He knew my name, he had to. I’d made the mistake of trying to introduce myself after moving in, but…yeah, that didn’t go too well. I’d been cussed out by a drunk Ace, apologized to by a grinning Brock, and then glared at by a stoic man who Brock called Kent.

  Yeah…not something I’d like to relive anytime soon.

  Ace said nothing, so I went on, “And it is my business when your racket keeps me up at night. Unlike you, I’m not able to lounge around during the day and do whatever I want. I have to work—”

  He crossed his arms, and the muscles there bulged. “Kind of seems like that’s what you do.”

  “I’m a writer,” I told him, sounding petulant. This one…just seeing him, he got on my nerves. I mean, just because he was nice to look at—definitely drool-worthy—didn’t give him the right to act however he wanted.

  “A shitty one, I bet,” Ace remarked, saying nothing else as he turned toward his garage, getting out the lawnmower around the car parked inside.

  Ugh. What a jackass.

  I said nothing else, clutching my bag and my phone as I stormed down the driveway. He was…oh, he was downright infuriating. The next eleven months were going to be torture. Pure torture, it was that simple.

  My eyes fell to my phone as I did my best to forget that whole encounter. Jewels Cafe, here I come.

  Chapter 2

  Jewels Cafe was indeed a small, quaint place. It matched the rest of Silver Springs somehow, even on its cobblestone sidewalk. As I walked up to it, I slowly put my phone away. The cafe looked to be underneath some apartments. An old, weathered board sat just outside the door, a sandwich sign that read in perfect, flawless handwriting Now Serving: Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Some of the letters had extra, cute swirls, as if a girl had written it. Below the words, a hand-drawn cup sat with a jewel drawn onto its center.

  Ah, right. Because Jewels Cafe. I get it.

  I headed past the small trees growing in the sidewalk to the front door. Potted plants were everywhere, and grey awnings stretched from the cafe’s windows to the sidewalk. I paused as I held open the door, noticing a strangely-placed plant on the door’s left. A purple flower, though I wasn’t sure what kind it was. A yellow daffodil sat on the right.

  These people really liked their flowers, didn’t they? It was all very modern, but the flowers screamed hippie. Or maybe that was just me.

  As I walked into Jewels Cafe, I was instantly hit with the aroma of coffee beans. I wasn’t a coffee drinker, not really, but maybe that had to change while I was here—or at least until I hit my deadline.

  A few tables sat to the left of the shop, and a wrap-around bar hugged the counter where the baristas worked. The place was pretty sparse right now, but it was a strange time. I did see a young man sitting at a table with his head bent down to his laptop, intently focused on it.

  I moved to the bar area to place my order, waiting for the blonde man working to come to me. He was a tall guy, cute, but right now my mind was on my deadline. Further back in the shop, I noticed another man, a rag thrown over his shoulder. He was talking to a bubbly, cute blonde woman. She was grinning, and even though I’d just laid eyes on them, it was obvious they were in the middle of some heavy flirting.

  Finally, the blonde behind the counter came over to me. He spread his hands across the countertop, giving me a small grin. “You’re a new face around here,” he said.

  “Yeah, moved to Silver Springs about a month ago,” I told him, not really sure why I felt like sharing that. He seemed like a decent guy, so unlike my jerky neighbors, so maybe that was why.

  “Liking it so far?”

  I nodded. “It’s great. I don’t really get along with my neighbors, but…” Shrugging, I added, “That’s why I’m here. To work in a coffee shop like a stereotypical writer.” I used Sofia’s words; she’d be proud.

  “Sounds like a good plan,” he said. On his nametag, I noticed his name was Julian. A strange name for someone so young. That name kind of reminded me of a grandpa. “What’ll you have? We are now serving pumpkin spice lattes. Tis the season, and all that.” He flashed me his white teeth, and I heaved a sigh.

  Well, if I was really going to do this thing, I might as well get the damned pumpkin spice latte, huh? You only live once.

  I reached into my bag, pulling out my wallet. “Sure, let’s go for a pumpkin spice latte.” Felt kind of weird saying it, because not once in my life did I ever think I’d become one of those people who bought expensive coffee—and the whole pumpkin spice debate online was something I steered clear of. Some people loved it, some people made fun of it. I was firmly in the middle, not caring either way.

  Who knew? Maybe this pumpkin spice latte would be the best thing I’d ever tasted. Maybe I’d order a few more by the time the day was done.

  “They are my specialty,” he spoke, ringing me out before getting to work on it.

  I meandered to the table in the front corner. It was nestled between another table and a high-top table that ran the length of the window in the front of the cafe. The place was quiet; it would serve as a better workplace than my own home. I lifted my bag onto the table and pulled out my laptop, meeting eyes with the other guy a few tables down. Working on his own laptop, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing.

  I had my laptop open and my password typed in by the time my pumpkin spice latte was set beside me, a grinning Julian saying, “I hope you enjoy. A pumpkin spice latte like this only comes around once in your life.”
He gave me a wink before returning to the counter, and my eyebrows furrowed.

  That…seemed like a strange thing to say, especially about a pumpkin spice latte.

  I peered at the cup, at the whipped cream topped with orange spice resting above the drink. The cup itself was similar to the one hand-drawn on the sign outside, with a jewel sticker slapped on it. This place liked their flowers and their jewels, but I guess it was their thing. My thing was constant anxiety and migraines that could kill you if you managed them poorly, so I guess I couldn’t talk.

  Grabbing the cup, I brought it to my lips, slowly tilting it as I tasted some of the whipped cream before getting to the actual drink. The warm liquid fell down my throat easily, and to my surprise, it actually tasted good.

  This pumpkin spice was the shit. Where had it been my whole life? Why hadn’t I thought to try it before? All those influencers actually un-influenced me…and here I’d been missing out. Damn.

  I set the latte down, staring at it for a little while. I felt…a bit warm all over, actually. Was that what coffee did to you? Made you kind of tingly? Hmm. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was about to get shit done, and honestly, there was no better feeling.

  Except sex, but I hadn’t had sex in forever, so…

  Huh. Odd. Not sure why my mind went to sex just now. Oh, well. I’ll blame the latte.

  After cracking my fingers, I got to work. My novel dealt with a woman in pain losing her fiancé, then of course learning to find acceptance again after moving to the middle of nowhere and stumbling across a modern-day cowboy. A romance novel with a whole lot of sex, basically. Most of the sex I’d written as fade-to-black, but my editor said most romance readers these days want all the dirty bits, so I had to go back and add in those parts. Body parts, bodily juices, the whole works. It was not something I was looking forward to, frankly—and not because I hadn’t had sex in a while.