Title: No One’s Surrender

Series: Chadwell Hearts #3

Author: Kelly Walker

Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance

Release Date: December 29, 2014

synopsis

Chelsea Arnold is not a Chadwell, as her mother incessantly reminds her.

And if she doesn’t learn to play the game, she’ll never see a dime of her new step-daddy’s money. So Chelsea puts on the act and dutifully follows the Chadwell family rules: everyone has to work in the family bar to learn life lessons. Little do they know, she already knows the biggest lesson of all: the best thing to be is underestimated. Then they’ll never see you coming. And in a few more weeks when she’s tucked enough cash away, she’ll be out of here, leaving her new family and her washed-up mother behind, because all Chelsea wants is freedom. Inheritance be damned.

But when her step-father learns he has a son he never knew about, it throws her plan off the tracks. While another son and an ex-wife sharing her husband’s affections are too much for Chelsea’s mother to handle and she heads for the hills, the rough around the edges Warren “Ware” Chadwell is enough to tempt Chelsea to stay. Despite the fact that all he has to offer is everything she’s determined to shy away from, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks knows how to push her buttons in all the right ways, no matter how wrong it is.

 

 

excerpt

Ware’s voice is low and quiet, like he’s

trying not to wake me if I’ve already fall asleep. “Chelsea? Can I come in?”

I hold my breath, trying to contain the sobs

wracking my shoulders, hoping he’ll think I’m sleeping.

“I can hear you crying, so I know you’re not

asleep.”

Fuck.

Footsteps tap softly toward the bed.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” I sniffle

miserably.

The edge of the bed dips beneath Ware’s

weight and his hand cups my shoulder. “You spend so much time taking care of

everyone else, but who holds you when it’s your turn to fall down?”

“I’m more than capable of picking myself up.”

My voice wobbles, undermining my words.

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean that

sometimes you don’t just want someone to take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say so quietly it can hardly even

be called a whisper. Before I even realize I’ve spoken out loud, Ware has

scooped me up and he’s sliding beneath me, crushing me against his chest. I

want to resist, because to say I’m conflicted about where he fits into

everything would be a ginormous understatement. I’m still not sure if he’s the

enemy, or a potential ally, but his warmth burns away my barriers, and the

tears flow more freely. I go from steady tears and soft sobs to ugly crying

without any preamble. My dam has broken and the raw emotion surges through.

I’m vaguely aware of Ware stroking my hair

while his other arm around my waist keeps me glued to him. He hums softly,

something soothing and serene, that sounds vaguely familiar. As he hums, he

keeps stroking my hair and my body begins melting into him. Before I can ask

him what he’s humming, he begins to softly sing and my heart stops. His voice

is hauntingly beautiful, and I’m afraid to even breathe, afraid he’ll stop. It

takes me a moment to place the song, but I think it’s Lullabye by Shaun

Mullins. It’s haunting and sad and soulful all at once, sending a shiver up my

spine from the chilling beauty of it.

His hand freezes and he pauses mid song.

“Sorry, are you cold?” He tugs at the blanket, trying to pull it from

underneath us.

“No. Not cold,” I say, lifting my head to

peer up at him.

“Appalled by my singing then?” I know he

knows differently by the way the corner of his lip quirks up as he teases me.

“That’s probably it.” More like amazed, or

enraptured. I hear live artists singing at the bar downstairs almost every

weekend, but it is never like hearing Ware sing. He wasn’t performing, or putting

on a show. It was more like he was just letting his emotions come out through

his voice, saying more than his words ever could. I feel safe, and cherished,

and content. It makes no sense, but I’ve got no desire to question it tonight.

He gives me a knowing smile and I drop my

head back against his chest. “Thanks,” I mumble against him.

“Don’t mention it. Sometimes we just need the

connection of touching another human being. I think it’s ingrained in us from

birth, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say softly.

“I should probably head out to the couch

though.” His voice is heavy with regret, and I wonder what’s going through his

head. Does he regret comforting me, or does he regret not doing more?

My hand wraps around his arm, not wanting to

let him go, but feeling silly at the thought of saying it. He seems to

understand, and I don’t need to. We settle under the covers, curled tightly

against each other and I fall asleep to the sound of Ware humming beside my

ear.

 

 

Add to Goodreads

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Add to Goodreads

Amazon CA
Amazon

Amazon UK

Amazon AU

B&N

Kobo

abouttheauthor

Kelly Walker is a YA and NA author of several romantic titles, including the Souls of the Stones Fantasy Romance series. She has an unhealthy appreciation for chocolate, and a soft spot for rescued animals. Her best lessons on writing came from a lifetime of reading. She loves the fantastical, and the magical, and believes a captivating romance can be the most realistic magic of all. Kelly, her husband and her two children share their Virginia home with three dogs who walk her, and two cats who permit her to occasionally share their couch.

For more information, please visit www.kellywalker.net

 

  

 

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