Instant Bliss: The Moore Family Book 3 Read online

  Praise for Abby Brooks

  “Abby Brooks is a wizard with Beyond Us—entertaining and pure enjoyment!”

  Adriana Locke—USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author

  “A masterful blend of joy and angst.

  Praise for Abby Brooks

  “As a voracious reader it is not unusual for me to read 5-7 books per week. What is unusual is for me to be thinking about the writing and characters long after I've finished the book. With just the perfect amount of angst and remarkable character development, Abby Brooks has crafted a masterpiece…”

  Praise for BEYOND WORDS

  "Once again Abby Brooks creates a world filled with beautifully written characters that you cannot help but fall in love with.”

  Praise for BEYOND LOVE

  "A lovely story of growing beyond your past, taking control of your life, and allowing yourself to be loved for the person you are."

  Melanie Moreland—New York Times Bestselling Author, in praise of Wounded

  “Abby Brooks writes books that draw readers right into the story. When you read about her characters, you want them to be your friends.”

  Praise for Abby Brooks

  Instant Bliss

  The Moore Family Book 3

  Abby Brooks

  Copyright © 2020 by Abby Brooks

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Enemies-to-Bliss Sneak Peek

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Also by Abby Brooks

  Connect With Abby Brooks

  Chapter One

  Willow

  Willow snapped the ends off a green bean and tossed it into a strainer, smiling across a granite countertop at her best friend Juliet. The women hadn’t seen each other in months, due to Julz packing up and leaving New York City in a hurry.

  “Have I told you how much I missed this?” Willie trailed a finger around the stem of her mostly empty wine glass, cheeks aching from the perma-grin that’d been plastered in place since her plane landed.

  “You say that like we made a habit of destringing green beans before I moved to Bliss.” Juliet cocked her head, humor gleaming in her pretty eyes. “You’re so married to your job, I count myself lucky I saw you at all.”

  The joke landed flat, even though Willow let it slide and laughed anyway. No one, apparently not even her closest friend, understood why she sacrificed so much for her career.

  “Of all people, you know I have to be married to my job. And you also know what I mean. I miss this…” She gestured between them. “The way we are. I’m going crazy now that seven hundred miles of the east coast separates us.”

  “Me too, Willie. Me, too.” Juliet leaned into her friend, shoulder to shoulder, head to head. “Have I mentioned how glad I am you could make it for the wedding? Especially considering your abusive-husband-slash-place-of-employment?”

  With wide eyes, Willow slapped Juliet in the arm. “My job is not abusive. It’s a dream come true and I’ll do anything to keep it.”

  “I know, babe. I really do. I also really love teasing you about it, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “Believe me. I’m aware.”

  Through the window over her friend’s shoulder, Willow watched the ocean lap the beach. Clouds dotted a brilliant sky and sunlight streamed into Juliet’s monstrous kitchen, dancing across the tile floor.

  Bliss, South Carolina was the complete opposite of what Willow was accustomed to back in Manhattan, what with the wide-open spaces and the fresh air and the fact that everyone knew everything about everybody because they’d all known each other forever…

  Basically, all the small town stuff she’d always heard about.

  On one hand, she understood why Juliet loved it there, but on the other, she questioned if she’d lose her mind to the slow pace and the persistent possibility of becoming the talk of the town. Give her the anonymity and energy of the city any day.

  Juliet’s fiancé—Ian Moore—sauntered into the kitchen and slid his arms around his soon-to-be-wife’s waist, then pulled her close and kissed his way across her jawline to her lips. He pressed his forehead to hers, taking her hands and stroking her knuckles with his thumbs.

  Willow considered looking away.

  She even considered leaving the room.

  The moment seemed incredibly intimate and precious. So completely designed for just the two of them that she felt like an intruder—though her stuff was half-unpacked in the guestroom upstairs. Even the memory of Juliet calling her the guest of honor when she arrived didn’t diminish the feeling.

  Lulu, a little Yorkshire terrier with a big personality, propped her front paws up on Ian’s leg and he absently scratched behind her ears. “You girls have fun. I’ll be back before my family gets here.”

  “Promise you won’t take long?” Juliet raised a questioning brow, her eyes trained on his.

  “Juliet Lane.” He cupped her cheeks and laughed lightly. “You’ll be my wife in a week. Are you telling me you can’t handle being alone with my family?”

  She slid her hands into Ian’s back pockets and leaned her cheek against his chest. “No, silly. I just can’t stand being separated from you.”

  Willow fought the urge to roll her eyes by studying the bright November day on the other side of the window. At home in New York, she’d be wearing extra socks and bundling up in blankets. In Bliss, the temperature hovered around seventy degrees and had Willow considering wearing shorts, much to the chagrin of the natives who considered it chilly.

  Ian swept Juliet into a kiss, his fingers twining in her hair and then…

  …finally…

  …he managed to say his goodbyes.

  It reminded Willow of a man leaving his wife for war, not a simple trip to the store.

  Never in her life had someone loved her like that and she doubted anyone ever would. She simply didn’t have the time to give a relationship. Her friend was right when she accused her of being married to her job…which was fine. She loved what she did. Immensely. It was every little girl’s dream come true—Willow included.

  After Ian closed the front door behind him, Juliet put a hand to her heart and sighed. “I’m so very, very in love with him.”

  “It’s pretty clear he’s like, very, very, very, very in love with you right back.”

  Juliet scooped Lulu up and nuzzled the dog’s head. “Oh yeah? How can you tell?”

  “By
the way he touches you.” Willow grabbed a green bean and turned it in her hands. “You can tell a lot about a man by the way he puts his hands on you.”

  Juliet kissed Lulu and put her down before she swung her long, brown hair over her shoulder and plopped back onto the stool next to Willow. “Oh, right. I forgot that all your years as a ballerina have given you so much experience with men putting their hands on you. You must be an expert by now.”

  “Actually, they have.” Willow shrugged. “Think of all the times I’ve had to take a man’s hand in rehearsal. Or on the stage. And think how many times I’ve had a man’s hands on my waist. Or on my hips. Or my…” She widened her eyes and made a face that said you know what I’m talking about. “Modesty isn’t a thing in my career. It can’t be. I’ve had so many hands on so many places on my body…”

  “I always said you were a floozy.” Julz grabbed a green bean out of Willow’s pile and snapped the ends off, smiling devilishly as she tossed it in the strainer before grabbing a handful for herself. “So do tell, oh wise one. What does the way Ian touches me say about him?”

  “It says you’re the thing he cherishes most in his life.”

  Juliet beamed, her love for her fiancé shining in her eyes. “You think so?”

  “For sure. He’s careful and tender, but in a way that’s charged with so much passion it makes me feel like I’m intruding on your moment. When he puts his hands on you, he claims you and protects you at the same time.” Willow shrugged and ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass. “It’s super romantic. Totally beautiful. And I’m studying it like crazy so I can explain it to whoever ends up dancing the part of Romeo when we perform Romeo and Juliet in February.”

  Besides, she thought, I wouldn’t mind someone touching me like that someday.

  Though, the way things were going, the only way a man would touch her the way Ian touched Juliet would be if it was choreographed.

  And that was okay.

  Willow didn’t mind being married to her job.

  Much.

  Chapter Two

  Harry

  Harrison Moore paced his house. His brother Ian wasn’t expecting him for another couple hours. He knew that, but he checked the time anyway. Minutes ticked by at a glacial pace when he wasn’t at work. With nothing to occupy his mind, that itchy, unable-to-sit-still feeling always surfaced.

  The need to move.

  To busy his hands.

  To produce something of value.

  Harry wasn’t good at being bored and for as much as he enjoyed being alone, he didn’t exactly do that well, either. The house was clean, but he wandered around, straightening things anyway. In the garage, his fully restored ’69 GTO shimmered and gleamed like the masterpiece she was. He’d finished the last round of renovations on her the month before and almost wished he hadn’t. Working on her had brought a sense of Zen that had been missing ever since.

  “I need another hobby,” he muttered to the walls. “Or a dog.”

  At least if he had a pet, he wouldn’t feel crazy talking to himself. An image of Juliet’s little yapper popped into his head and Harry chuckled. Six months ago, if someone had said his brother would dote over a creature as ridiculous as Lulu, he’d have told them they obviously didn’t know Ian Moore.

  Looked like the joke was on him, because his brother spoiled that dog more with each day.

  Life had a way of throwing curveballs—especially when you thought you had it all figured out.

  I sure could go for a curveball right about now, Harry thought.

  Something to change things up. To occupy his mind. To break from the monotony of every day being a carbon copy of the one before it—and the one after.

  As soon as he finished the wish, he regretted it. He had everything he wanted and really didn’t have room for whatever else a curveball might bring. He loved his life. His mood that day was an anomaly—one he hoped would dissipate soon.

  If it wasn’t for the family gathering planned that evening, Harry would be at work, where the fast pace ensured he never felt the boredom that settled over him at home. The heat of the kitchen, the hustle of the servers, he lost himself in the energy. No two nights were ever the same and he’d quickly learned to love expecting the unexpected. His mind disappeared in the precision of cooking, the details of perfectly measured ingredients and artfully arranged plates.

  The sizzle of meat in the pan.

  The steam of bubbling sauces.

  The flash of his knife as he diced vegetables.

  The aroma of good food and the knowledge that just outside the kitchen, customers sat around tables in his restaurant, filling their bellies with meals he’d prepared. Every night felt like a performance and he embraced the challenge of ensuring each person who came into Harrison’s left satisfied.

  He checked the time again. Exactly five minutes had passed.

  He could go for a run, but he’d already showered. He could drop by the restaurant, but he’d promised his staff he wouldn’t make an appearance. They hadn’t believed him for a second and the good-natured teasing he’d endured had him unwilling to go back on his word.

  With a rough hand through his sand-colored hair, he headed outside and inhaled the ocean air, but restlessness waited for him there, too.

  Expectation hung suspended in the air around him.

  The oppressive heaviness of a gathering storm raised the hairs on the back of his neck, though the sun shone from a clear sky.

  He had the sense of something big on the horizon, though he couldn’t understand what it would be.

  A feeling of impending surrounded him. A certainty…though of what, he had no clue.

  Chalking it up as another sign of his inability to sit still, Harry called Ian to see if they needed any help.

  “Hey ho, little bro!”

  Harry chuckled. “You sound like you’re in a good mood.”

  “I am. Perpetually. You should try it sometime.”

  “I’m always in a good mood.” How could he not be when he grew up in the perfect family, lived in a brand new house on the beach, and loved the business he’d built from the ground up?

  Ian scoffed. “There’s a difference between fine and happy.”

  The statement caught Harry off-guard. Of all his brothers, he was the one whose life had fallen into place the easiest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. Guess I’m feeling a little existential lately.”

  “You say existential, I say sappy. I mean, just look at the way you treat that dog. No self-respecting man should love an animal that weighs under forty pounds.”

  “Chopper has the attitude of a full-sized wolf.” Ian chuckled as he used the nickname he’d given Lulu. “That counts.”

  Chilled by the fall breeze coming off the water, Harry wandered back into the house, then stood there with his hand on his hip. “Thought I’d call and see if you guys needed any help getting ready.”

  “Afraid you’ll have to eat less-than-perfect food?”

  “Not at all. Juliet knows her way around the kitchen. It is her in the kitchen, right Ian?” His brother was a disaster when it came to cooking. The man could fly a fighter jet without blinking an eye, but keeping a steak from burning was asking too much.

  “I’m not even in the house, my friend.” Ian laughed and another wave of expectation washed over Harry. “But,” his brother continued, “Julz is working through a bottle of wine with her maid of honor. I hate to break it to you, but your dinner might be in the hands of a tipsy and distracted cook.”

  “You say that like I care. Just because I know my way around a kitchen doesn’t make me a food snob.”

  “I say that like I care.” Ian chuckled. “I adore my fiancé, but that woman can’t hold her wine. I’m begging you, little brother. Rescue dinner. My taste buds are already thanking you, and, after you see who’s keeping Juliet company, you’ll be returning the gratitude.”

  Harry snorted. “And there it is. U
lterior motive.”

  “Think of Willow less as an ulterior motive, and more of a bonus. My main priority is dinner. Always.”

  After some good-natured ribbing, they said their goodbyes and Harry shook his head at the mention of Juliet’s maid of honor. Ever since both his older brothers found love, they’d been pointing out eligible bachelorettes like he was next in line. Their sister Lilah had gone so far as to bring him a list of women, with their pros and cons jotted in columns marching down the page. What they didn’t realize was that Harry was completely content in his life.

  Running his restaurant kept him busy and perfecting his abilities as a chef kept him fulfilled. What more did a man need?

  “Someone to talk to would be nice,” he muttered as he swiped his keys off the counter and headed outside.

  Maybe I will get a dog, he thought, even though he knew that was ridiculous. Pets needed time and attention…commodities he really didn’t have in spades.

  As he slipped into his car, Harry realized he had a gigantic grin smeared across his face. Excitement had his fingers tapping and his head bobbing, but he still couldn’t understand why. Family dinners were nice, but as the quietest of four siblings, he typically found himself fading into the background. Which was fine with him, especially considering he never craved the spotlight.