Small Town Sweethearts

Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Ames www.jessicaamesauthor.com All rights reserved. Stranded Hearts is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental. Editing by Charisse Sayers Proofreading by Gem’s Precise Proofreads Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs Please note this book contains material aimed at an adult audience, including sex, violence and bad language. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under Copyright Act 1911 and the Copyright Act 1988, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author. This book is covered under the United Kingdom’s Copyright Laws. For more information visit: www.gov.uk/copyright/overview. CONTENTS Match Me Perfect 1. Callum 2. Sadie 3. Callum 4. Sadie 5. Callum 6. Sadie 7. Callum 8. Sadie 9. Callum 10. Sadie 11. Callum 12. Sadie 13. Callum 14. Sadie 15. Callum 16. Sadie 17. Callum 18. Sadie 19. Callum 20. Sadie 21. Callum 22. Sadie 23. Callum 24. Sadie 25. Callum 26. Sadie 27. Callum 28. Sadie 29. Callum 30. Sadie 31. Callum 32. Sadie 33. Callum 34. Sadie 35. Callum 36. Sadie 37. Callum 38. Sadie 39. Callum 40. Sadie 41. Callum 42. Sadie 43. Callum 44. Sadie 45. Callum 46. Sadie 47. Callum 48. Sadie Epilogue Get a free book and exclusive content Enjoyed this book? Stranded Hearts 1. Zara 2. Rhys 3. Zara 4. Rhys 5. Zara 6. Rhys 7. Zara 8. Rhys 9. Zara 10. Rhys 11. Zara 12. Rhys 13. Zara 14. Rhys 15. Zara 16. Rhys 17. Zara 18. Rhys 19. Zara Epilogue Get a free gift and exclusive content Enjoyed this book? Also by Jessica Ames About the Author MATCH ME PERFECT To Amanda, without whom this story would not exist. Thank you for always making me laugh. * * * CHAPTER 1 CALLUM Another wave crashes over the bow of the Scarlet Rose and her entire front end disappears into the murkiness of the water. The momentum throws me forward onto the control panel and I have to grab on to keep my footing. Jesus, this storm is picking up. We need to sail out of it and head back towards the coastline and the calmer waters. This whole run has been one disaster after another. I can’t wait to get my feet back on dry land. I can’t wait to get home. Her face drifts into my mind for a moment and my chest aches. We need to talk, to sort things out and I just hope she’s going to let me talk to her. I don’t like how we left things. My thoughts are cut short. I’m thrown across the cabin as the boat suddenly lurches to one side. My body slams into one of the panels and fire goes through my ribs and pain explodes through my head. “Cal!” Hands are on me suddenly, steadying me, trying to help me. Alex’s worried face swims into my blurred vision as I try to focus. He’s soaked to the skin, his raincoat dripping, his hair too. “Can you stand?” I swallow painfully and nod, even though I don’t think I can. “Where’s Mace? Tanner?” My voice sounds ravaged. “They’re on deck still,” he tells me as he drags me to my feet. I can’t stop the groan that escapes my mouth. Jesus, that hurt. Alex reaches behind him and grabs a pile of paper towels which he presses against my head. “Hold this.” “The boat—” “Will be fine. Let’s just stop you bleeding first.” The boat won’t be fine. We’re being pounded by the waves which is dangerous as hell. God knows how far off course we are now and fuck knows how long we’ve been drifting for. The thought of drifting in open water makes my stomach fill with ice. There are so many risks, so many dangers with losing control of a boat, and out here, this far out, help is going to be too far away to do anything. “We need to get them off the deck,” I tell him, pushing past him. Mentally, I try to remember where we were the last time I looked at the navigation system, but thinking makes my head pound harder, so I stop. Anything not tied down is rolling around the floor as the boat rocks on the waves. I ignore the way it makes my stomach roil as I make a beeline for my crew. I have good sea legs, but even I’m not immune to this amount of movement. Mace and Tanner are trying in vain to secure the lines. “This storm is picking up,” Mace yells over the wind. “We’ve got to get out of it.” I open my mouth to agree when a wave rolls over the boat. I can’t draw in air as I get a face full of water. My feet go from under me and my legs and side are battered as I hit the stuff on the deck. Then I’m in the water. And not the water on deck. I’m in the ocean. It happens so fast I barely have time to register what is going on. The first inkling I have that I’m in trouble is when I’m fully submerged—fully submerged in the North Atlantic. The cold hits me like a blast, and I gasp. This is a bad idea because I swallow a lungful of salt water as I’m pulled down by the swirling waves. I feel as if I have a ten-ton weight attached to my feet as I’m battered by the turbulent water. I need to break the surface. I need to get air into my lungs. My chest burns as I try to kick my feet to swim to the surface, but the water is like treacle and my body isn’t responding