You guys know who it is, so I'm just going to say, thank you for supporting every story that I bring to the site. Whether it's an original or a re-write.
The original title of this book is 'Lucky in Love' and the author is Jill Shalvis.
As usual, most of the work is the author's.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own 'Lucky in Love.'
Prologue
All you need is love...but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.
Lightning sent a jagged bolt, across Sam Evans' closed lids. Then, thunder boomed and the earth shuddered.
He jerked straight up in bed, gasping, as if he'd just run a marathon.
'It was just a dream...the same goddamn four-year-old dream.'
Sweating and trembling like a leaf, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Why couldn't he dream about something good, like sex with triplets?
Shoving free of the covers, he limped naked to the window and yanked it open.
The cool mist of the spring storm, brushed his heated skin, and he fought the urge to close his eyes, because, if he did, he'd be back there.
But the memories came anyway.
"Landing in ten," the pilot announced, as the plane skimmed just beneath the storm, raging through the night.
"In eight." The plane began to vibrate.
"In six." Lightning cracked.
And then, an explosion, one so violent, it nearly blew out his eardrums.
Sam dropped his head back, letting the rain slash at his body, through the open window.
He could hear the Pacific Ocean, pounding the surf below the cliffs.
Scented with fragrant pines, the air smelled like Christmas in April, and he forced himself to draw a deep, shaky breath.
He was no longer a SEAL medic, dragging his sorry ass out of a burning plane, choking on the knowledge, that he was the only one still breathing, and that he hadn't been able to save a single soul...he was in Washington State, in the small beach town of Lucky Harbor.
The ocean was in front of him, the Olympic Mountains at his back.
He was safe.
But hell, if at the next bolt of lightning, he didn't try to jump out of his own skin.
Pissed at his weakness, Sam shut the window. He was never inhaling an entire pepperoni pizza, before bed again.
Except, he knew it wasn't something as simple as pizza, that made him dream badly.
It was the edginess that came from being idle.
His work was still special ops, but he hadn't gone back, to being a first-responder, trauma paramedic.
Instead, he'd signed up as a private contractor to the government, which was a decent enough adrenaline rush. Plus, it suited him...or it had...until six months ago, when on an assignment, he'd had to jump out a second story window, to avoid being shot, and re-injured his leg.
Stretching that leg now, he winced. He wanted to get back to his job. Actually, he needed to get back. But he also needed clearance from his doctor first.
Pulling on a pair of jeans, he snagged a shirt off the back of a chair and left the room, as the storm railed around outside.
He made his way through the big and nearly empty house, he'd rented for the duration of his recovery, heading to the garage.
'A fast drive in the middle of the night would have to do, and maybe a quick stop at the all-night diner.
But this first.'
Flipping on the lights, Sam sucked in a deep, calming breath of air, heavy with the smells of motor oil, well-greased tools, and rubber tires.
On the left, sat a '72 GMC Jimmy, a rebuild job he'd picked up on the fly.
God knows he didn't need the money.
As it turned out, special ops talents, were well-compensated these days, but the repair work was a welcome diversion from his problems.
The '68 Shelby Mustang on the right, wasn't a side job. She was his baby, and she was calling to him.
He kicked the mechanic's creeper from against the wall, towards the classic muscle car.
Lowering himself onto the cart, with a grimace of pain, Sam rolled beneath the car, shoving down his problems...denying them...avoiding them.
Seeking his own calm in the storm.
Great fans, deserved to be treated nicely. So, here's to my wonderful fans out there...old and new. Enjoy this new story :)