Silver Spoon Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Cheyenne Meadows

  Reviews

  A Silver Publishing Book

  Silver Spoon

  Copyright © 2013 by Cheyenne Meadows

  E-book ISBN: 9781614958949

  First E-book Publication: March 2013

  Cover design by Lee Tiffin

  Editor: Jason Huffman

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  This book is written in US English.

  PUBLISHER

  www.SPSilverPublishing.com

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  Thank you for not pirating our titles.

  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

  Dedication

  In memory of Cuddles, my constant companion, the best furry friend a person could have. Writing won't be the same without you lying across the computer desk asking for belly rubs, sitting in front of the monitor to snare my attention, or simply resting on the heating vent to soak up the warmth while I worked. You always knew when it was time to quit work for the day, to receive your dinner, and snuggle for the rest of the evening.

  You were with me through this whole journey; I just wish you were still here to see the rest. I miss you more than I can say. Rest in peace little girl.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Styrofoam: Dow Chemical Company

  Jell-O: Kraft Foods, Inc.

  Grammy: National Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences, Inc.

  Three Stooges: C3 Entertainment, Inc.

  Desert Eagle: Magnum Research, Inc.

  Chapter 1

  Spoon punched his cell phone off with a muttered curse. He knew better than to speak with his father, especially lately.

  "Is he hassling you again?" Loco asked from across the weight bench where the men currently lifted arm weights.

  Spoon glanced up at the sandy-haired Marine who matched him in height and build. "Unfortunately."

  Supposedly, the world's resources of diamonds were drying up, leading to a highly competitive market for the few remaining newly dug rocks worth reaching the retail setting. His father had scrambled, pulled every string, and outwardly bribed mine owners to give him first selection. This painstaking process had made him realize he needed a right hand man. He'd chosen Spoon.

  "You don't owe him anything. Hell, a Komodo dragon would have made a better father than he did."

  Counting under his breath with each curl, Spoon nodded in muted agreement. All of the Wind Warriors knew of his background and had never failed to provide support and understanding, much more appreciated than the taunting and blatant harassment he endured early in his military career. Just because his parents were wealthy didn't mean he benefited from free access to their monetary funds.

  The subject of his childhood had come up more than once, with more frequency now that his father threw all his weight into forcing Spoon into the family business. A place the retired Green Beret refused to go. Ever.

  Taking a breath, he replaced the free weight back on the rack. "I just wish he would learn to take 'no' for an answer. Pending that, another lingering mission comes up where I'll be incommunicado for the next three months."

  Loco picked up the recently deposited dumbbell, letting it fall to his side before lifting up once more. "I'm with you on the 'no' business, but a three month assignment would suck."

  "Afraid Oakley would find a replacement?"

  "Nah. She loves me. Besides, she's become quite spoiled with my special talents. No other man could stack up," he boasted, puffing out his chest and waggling his eyebrows even as he finished the set and relaxed both arms straight for a moment, shaking them to work out the kinks.

  Spoon grinned at his best friend. "You're one lucky dog, I'll give you that." He had met Loco's fiancée on several occasions, even before the pair became an item. She made the sun rise and set with her compassion, caring, and upbeat attitude. A man could do worse, much worse, than have her at his side for a lifetime.

  "Believe me, I know it." Loco threw a quick smile over his shoulder as he moved to the other side of the free weight area to the pull-up bar.

  Spoon applauded the other Wind Warrior team members in finding their other halves and remained envious of the sheer happiness he spied on their faces these days. In all honesty, he never expected to find the perfect woman, to marry, and raise a family. None of the guys did. Their jobs inherently included too much danger not only to themselves but to anyone close to them. However, that fact didn't stop any of the others who found strong females willing to not only stand but fight alongside them if necessary.

  The only single one left, Spoon felt a new burden upon his shoulders. He wanted what they had. A beautiful woman to come home to, who loved him for who he was, and wasn't afraid to deal with any backlash from his current occupation. Seeing how contented the others were pushed his shoulders down in resignation. Never before had loneliness planted itself at his doorstep and refused to move on.

  Damn, soldier. Snap out of it.

  Spoon mentally shook himself, trying to dislodge the melancholy from his system. He needed to get past this funk that had hung over him like a persistent rain cloud for the past couple of weeks.

  Normally, he lived in the present,
never focusing on what he lacked or measuring his life against others. His childhood taught him that comparing himself to peers led down a road of frustration and pipe dreams, and proved an illusion that, while right for another, didn't fit him like the glove he envisioned.

  Maybe he just needed a vacation? Get away from everything for a week or two, find an escape with no stress, just good old fashioned R and R. He snorted. Who was he kidding? His job and now his persistent father would either prevent or continually pester him the entire time.

  Barring a fluke, his next best idea would just have to work, his trusty stand-by. Hit up one of the local dance bars, find a hot and willing woman, and spend the night releasing pent up stress in the time honored method preferred by men. He worked off some steam, she enjoyed her night, they both went separate ways the following morning. The best situation of all.

  "Spoon? Earth to Spoon."

  Loco's voice broke through his thoughts. "What?" He used the end of a towel to wipe his perspiring face.

  "I asked if you wanted to come to dinner with Oakley and me."

  He stood and grabbed another set of weights. "Nah. I don't want to intrude."

  "You wouldn't be. She likes you, you know." Loco plopped down on the vacated bench.

  "Still. No thanks." He lifted both arms over his head, using upper body strength to push the dumbbells to a full arm extension each time. When finished, he puffed out a tired breath. "I think I'll hit the dance bar tonight, instead."

  Loco's eyebrows shot up as the corners of his mouth curled upward. "Tomcatting, huh?"

  "You know it," Spoon replied with a grin before repeating the exercise once more.

  "One of these days you'll find a woman worth coming home to."

  Softly replacing the dumbbells, Spoon shot his best friend a glance. "I don't know about that. Right now there is half a world full of women that I haven't yet sampled. That should be enough to keep me busy for a couple more years anyway."

  "I used to think that, too."

  Spoon shrugged. "So many women, so little time. Besides, I doubt there is a single woman around that can hold my attention for an entire month, let alone a lifetime."

  Chapter 2

  Riley checked her watch for the tenth time since leaving for lunch as she maneuvered around slower moving vehicles on one of the major roads in the city. Nothing like lunch hour traffic to make one late to work. Dang it. She chastised herself once more for being too lazy to fix a lunch that morning, instead relying on a local restaurant for her meal. Along with half the city. After standing in line for twenty minutes, she finally collected her sandwich and soup in just enough time to inhale the meal before rushing back to work on an overcrowded street.

  Zipping her small car into an empty parking space in the back row of the gym's lot, she grabbed her purse, locked and shut the door, then ran for the front door. Her boss, though easygoing, frowned on tardiness, a fact clearly explained at her orientation a few months back.

  With a burst of speed, she rounded the corner and yanked the door open only to run into a brick wall. "Ohhh."

  Large strong hands grabbed her arms, steadying her before she tumbled to the cement. Gaining her balance, she looked up into the face of her rescuer. Short dark brown hair, a shade darker than his eyes, topped a large framed man, with an athletic build and toned muscles. The top of her head nearly reached his clean shaven chin. Smooth skin and a firm jaw relayed confidence and hinted at his age.

  She sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry. I was…"

  He set her away from him with a mumbled word as he continued on his way, his friend glancing at her with an apologetic expression. Not only didn't the man speak directly to her, but he barely even noticed her except that she stood in his path. If anything, he looked right through her before the curt dismissal. Rude and inexcusable.

  With a growl of annoyance, she yanked the door open once more. Men! Some of them remained solidly in the caveman days. Surprising they didn't beat their chests with their fists more often, carry clubs, wear animal skins, and drag women to their cave by the hair with their primitive attitudes.

  Just another reason she didn't have a boyfriend or even a date. Her personal philosophy clashed mightily with such barbaric behavior. Riley preferred to be the one carrying the club and choosing her own men. Luckily, in present day, she enjoyed the luxury of being a single woman, supporting herself, and not requiring a man for anything. Complete freedom and independence from dictating and demanding males. A blessing, in her mind.

  Heading inside, she returned to her station, dropped the purse into a bottom drawer, then settled down on a stool with a fake smile plastered on her face. Splitting time between looking out the glass door and the people inside working out, she drifted back into thought.

  In all honesty, she enjoyed her job at the gym. Her position as receptionist and greeter allowed her nice benefits despite the low pay. She carried insurance and had permission to use the upscale gym anytime she wanted, as long as she clocked out first. The work, mundane to some, allowed for little stress and much repetition. Most of the members politely spoke or waved as they came in or left, even if few actually stopped long enough for an actual conversation. On slower days, she sat and watched the prime males of the species in their workouts, mesmerized by the muscle movements as they rippled just under the skin with various exercises. Eye candy for sure and research for her books.

  In her free time, she wrote romance novels. With five published books on the market, she worked hard to stay ahead of the game in order to keep new releases coming out at consistent intervals. While most considered it another job, she found it more like a hobby, one she thoroughly enjoyed. Writing allowed her to escape to other lands, a different time or setting. The hero proved gorgeous, well off, and chivalrous, the heroine beautiful and brave. Together, they would find adventure, danger, and true love.

  So much different from her own life, full of work, hassles, obnoxious people, and a strict budget.

  Her thoughts returned to the man that nearly bowled her over earlier. He qualified for the yummy part of her favored man; the rest of his behavior fell short of her ideal. Perhaps she set her standard unreasonably high, expecting a modern day man to compete with her fictional world heroes. Yet, the thought of accepting something less left her sullen and drained. No, if she ever found a man, he would have to fit the bill. Otherwise, she would be settling for less than her dream. In that instance, she might as well drag her sorry rear back to her father and marry one of the half dozen suitors he'd lined up over the years.

  Resolve straightened her spine. No way. She believed in romance and a freedom to choose who she would spend her life with even if she never found the right person and died an old spinster. It was still her choice. Riley had marched away from a fortune four years ago when she'd stood up to her father, adamantly refusing to live under his thumb any longer. With little money and nowhere to go, she'd tested out her wings for the first time and learned that each time she fell, it became easier to take flight once more, in search of not only happiness, but herself as well.

  "You still have that book signing tomorrow evening?" Marissa, one of the aerobics instructors asked from across the desk.

  Riley beamed. "I do. Six pm sharp." She slid off the stool and ambled closer.

  "Corner Bookstore?"

  "Yep. The one about two blocks from here. I'm so excited. My first book signing. I'm still dumbfounded they agreed to it."

  The tall, lean redhead shook her head. "Why not? You're a star in the making."

  "Uh, huh. In my dreams. Most authors have to keep their day jobs, you know. Writing is pretty much a hobby that provides supplemental income instead of vast wealth."

  "Either way, I'll be there." Marissa gave a quick wave then departed, her gym bag hoisted over her shoulder.

  Watching her go, Riley rubbed her hands together in anticipation. She still couldn't believe a publisher not only contracted one book, but five to date, let alone that the largest bookstore in
the city agreed to purchase cases of her print books in order to sell during a book signing. Magic, in her eyes.

  Settling back on her seat, she glanced at the clock. Two more hours before she could escape and dash home. In the meantime, more members trickled in, giving her another opportunity to consider each one as potential cover models for her characters.

  Too bad the Neanderthal that about knocked her down stuck his nose in the air in a blatant snub. From her brief look, he was made for prime cover model material. Tall, dark, and handsome, confident airs with athletic skills and abilities to warrant respect.

  With that image, her mind returned to her latest book, pondering what trouble the characters could run into next on their road to romance.

  Chapter 3

  Spoon shouldered his way through the dense crowd, frowning at the mass of humanity blocking his way. The one day he decided to stop by the bookstore to pick up a new release, on his way to a night out fishing for a sexy bed partner, it just happened to be packed to the ceiling with shoppers.

  His gaze cast across the immense space, catching sight of the problem. Lines of people, mostly women, stood waiting patiently for their turn to speak to a young woman sitting at a small table. A book signing. Grumbling under his breath, he changed course to avoid the worst of the traffic jam, marching past aisles full of books before circling back, on the other side of the room. With the adventure genre directly ahead, he turned his head, and stopped in his tracks.

  A bell of recognition rang loudly. He knew the author signing books. But from where?

  Her crimson curls, cut to just above the shoulder, framed her round face. Bright green eyes twinkled in the light, broadcasting intelligence and happiness with her present activity. While not a raving beauty, she appeared well put together with curves in all the right places. Pretty. And, if her works actually were published, she had to possess a decent brain. She might not stand out in a crowd of beauty contestants, but something about her intrigued him.