Best Part of Me

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or, places, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. BEST PART OF ME: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance—Maple Ridge Series-Book 1 Copyright © 2023 by LeAnne August Editing: Jeanine Harrell of Indie Edits With Jeanine Photography: Sara Whittaker of Desert Born Studios Cover Models: Dylan and Izzy Van Vleet All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior consent and written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the author at https://authorleanneaugust.wixsite.com/my-site Print Edition ISBN: 9798851423062 Digital Edition ASIN: B0C8WMYW7N For Dad, losing you while writing this book was nothing less than devastating. But writing is what gets me through the grief. You gave me the heart of a dreamer. I will forever be grateful. And for anyone who has ever been told they’re too much. You’re not. You’re perfectly perfect just as you are. Content/Trigger Warnings This book is intended for readers who are 18+. Please note that there may be content in this book that may be triggering for some readers. This list is not exclusive, so please proceed with caution. Explicit sexual content Explicit/offensive language/cursing Alcohol usage Child abandonment, (past) Death and talk of death, (past) People-pleasing trait Verbal abuse Contents Prologue 1. Camille 2. Maverick 3. Camille 4. Maverick 5. Camille 6. Maverick 7. Camille 8. Maverick 9. Camille 10. Maverick 11. Camille 12. Maverick 13. Camille 14. Maverick 15. Camille 16. Maverick 17. Camille 18. Maverick 19. Camille 20. Maverick 21. Maverick 22. Camille 23. Maverick 24. Camille 25. Maverick 26. Camille Epilogue Acknowledgments About the Author Also by LeAnne August Prologue CAMILLE “Tits up, buttercup,” Rosie says with a gesture that has everyone within earshot looking at her chest rather than mine. “Rosalie Milano,” Grandma Nettie scolds, swatting Rosie’s hands down to her sides. But despite trying, she fails to hide her giggle. “C’mon, Nettie, don’t be modest. Shit, you’re the one responsible for passing down that killer rack to our girl,” Rosie says. “She’s not wrong.” Gigi elbows my grandma in the side and now they’re all laughing. I wish I was laughing along with them. As grateful as I am for Rosie, I’m finding it difficult to find the humor tonight. “I think what Rosie was trying to say is, this is your night, sweetie, you should look happy and proud. Not all slumpy.” I pull strength from the place that’s deep down, the place I pull from when Mom needs me to be tenacious for her. It’s the place I’ve been drawing from a lot since her diagnosis, and when I’m trying to convince myself I’m doing the right thing by marrying Chris. But lately, I’m finding it more difficult to extract energy from that place. It feels as if it’s a well that’s almost dried up. Somewhere though, the strength gives way, and a smile breaks through. It’s enough to at least satisfy Mom. “It’s not too late,” Rosie whispers in my ear. “Just say the word and I’ll have you outta here in two seconds.” Again, my gratitude for having a best friend like Rosalie Milano has me feeling less anxious. “I’ll be all right.” “Do I need to remind you, this is forever? That,” she gestures at Chris who’s standing near me dressed in a tailored suit and sporting a clean-shaven face, “is for-ev-er.” she’s using her best Sandlot impersonation when she says forever. The corner of my lips tug into a smile more easily now. “I know, thanks, Rosie.” “Okay, but when shit hits the fan, just don’t say I didn’t try.” She stomps around the table and sits across from me. Chris slides out a chair, indicating I take the seat next to him. Mom gives my arm a gentle squeeze before she sits in the empty chair on my other side. She looks so happy. A far difference from where she was this time last year; weak, pale skin, and no hair from the rounds of chemo. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I finally sit. Chris pats my thigh before becoming distracted by a conversation his parents are having. Dad and Grandpa stroll into the reserved room of the restaurant while my brother, Jones, lingers by the door. I can’t tell if he’s waiting for Maverick or Mia. Expecting either to show tonight is a longshot. But regardless, I can’t keep the anticipation from blooming in my chest. I feel like I might be sick. Even though Maverick received an invitation to my engagement dinner, I’m only half expecting him to show. Part of me thinks it’s best if he skips tonight’s festivities. But a bigger part of me—the part of me I don’t seem to have much control over—longs for him to be here. How can he not be here? He hasn’t missed a single milestone in my life since I turned thirteen. We were all inseparable when we were kids. Me, Jones, Rosie, Maverick, Mia. But we aren’t kids anymore. I was reminded of that when Mia left Maple Ridge shortly after she and Jones broke up and she hasn’t been back. Not even for tonight. I’m reminded of our expired adolescence again while I wait like a lovesick puppy dog for a man, who isn’t my fiancé, to make an appearance at my engagement party. There’s a good level of chatter in the room. Almost everyone here has been connected one way or another for several years. And despite the usual tension between Dad and my brother, Jones, they seem to be getting along tonight. The wait staff at the fanciest Italian restaurant in town refills water glasses, pours wine, and