Made to Love: Carmen and Cooper's Story Read online

  Made to Love

  Carmen and Cooper’s Story

  by

  Candace Nicole Werts

  Book One of The Made Series

  www.cnbookseries.com

  Copyright © 2014 Candace Nicole Werts

  ISBN-13: 978-1497533813

  ISBN-10: 1497533813

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing form the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author imagination or are used fictitiously any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  This book was printed in the United States of America.

  To order additional copies of this book contact:

  www.cnbookseries.com

  or

  Shannon Werts

  [email protected]

  Acknowledgements

  I am grateful for the love and support shown by my friends and family.

  To the readers, who have waited patiently for Carmen and Cooper’s story, thank you.

  I want to give a special thank you to Anneli Kirby, for creating cnbookseries logo and the books design; Shannon Werts, my sister and publicist, for all her hard work and being the first person to read Made to Love.

  To my loving husband, Marcus Bohanon, for his kind words; always giving a listening ear and being my number one fan.

  Love,

  Candace

  Dedication Page

  The Made Series is dedicated to my dear friend, Nikki Hoy and adult erotica romance readers, who believe love is colorblind.

  Chapter One

  Present day

  We are sitting on Cooper’s deck enjoying the view, it overlooks his well-maintained lawn. There are a few trees located in different corners inside the white privacy fence securing the yard. The leaves have started to change colors. Some have already fallen, and the rest remain lightly on the branches, awaiting a brisk wind in which they’ll be set free. The sky is full of stars this evening; the temperature is dropping after what was a mild autumn day. Cuddling with Cooper under this warm, fleece blanket is amazing, and so is using his firm chest as a pillow. We fit so perfectly together.

  Cooper’s blackberry rings, and as he swipes the screen a smile spreads across his handsome face. “Hey Dad,” he says in a joyous childlike manner. “No I am not working. Spending time with my Carmen.” I can feel myself blushing. “Dad says hello.” Happily I say, “Hi, Mr. Jackson.” Cooper Laughs. “Yes, you will meet her soon.” He winks at me, how did I become such a lucky girl? “What’s going on? What?” Cooper is frowning. “For how long? Two years?” Immediately Cooper’s mood drastically changes as he paces the deck. “I can’t believe what I am hearing after what she did to you, to us.” Seeing Cooper upset is heart breaking. I just want to take away his pain. “Love? Forgiveness? She doesn’t deserve any of it. No I will not discuss this any further and especially NOT with her.” There is utter disgust in his voice. “I will never understand and want no part of this. Sorry, dad I can’t... You are right, I won’t.” Cooper ends the call, while walking inside; he screams “FUCK!”

  Unsure of precisely what took place, I do know it has to be horrible because Cooper and his father are very close. He always speaks very highly of him. Hopefully, the situation is fixable and doesn’t destroy their relationship. Giving Cooper a few seconds to gain his composure, I enter the house and find him in the living room; he’s standing at the wet bar drinking a glass of Scotch.

  Worried I asked, “Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer. “I am here if you want to talk.” He glares at me. Uncertain of what to do, walking across the room, seemed like the best option. Boy, was that wrong.

  Cooper puts his hand up which stops me in mid stride. “Don’t need your pity, Carmen.”

  “Pity is not what I am offering. I am here for you.”

  He clinches his powerful jaw. He gulps the rest of his Scotch and to my horror throws the glass against the wall. Wide eyed, I watch the glass shatter, thousands of small particles fall to the hardwood floor, making a tapping noise upon landing. He has a temper. That is not a good sign and why have I never noticed it before?

  Cooper gets my attention and in a frightening voice says, “This is none of your business, so don’t ask questions.” We silently stare at each other for what seems to be an eternity.

  Breaking the silence, I reply, “When people are in relationships they share things with each other.”

  “Relationship?” Cooper gives a deep disturbing laugh, “Oh my sweet naïve girl, this is no relationship. We are two adults enjoying each other’s company, should have known you weren’t mature enough to handle that.”

  Now I am full of rage. “You are an asshole and the worse kind. If you did not want a relationship you should have stated that from the beginning. But instead you pretended to be prince charming.”

  Cooper opens his mouth to interrupt me. Now I hold my hand up while raising my voice and firmly say, “You need to grow up and stop having temper tantrums. You are thirty-two, act like a man.” I turn towards the door and grab the handle but can’t walk out yet. “You need to make things right with your father, since that is the only relationship you have.”

  Quickly I grab my overnight bag. Rushing to my car and refusing to look back, I find myself speeding out of the driveway. I am baffled at how a supposedly romantic weekend turns into a nightmare. Did Celeste experience this too? Can this evening get any worse?

  Right on cue, my radio decides to play Toni Braxton’s song, “Un-break My Heart.” Just perfect. The tears fall.

  Chapter Two

  Two Years Ago

  My cell phone rings and my sister’s picture appears. I answer quickly. “How’s my baby sister doing?”

  “I am not a baby, Carmen. We are only two years apart. What are you up too?”

  Glancing at myself in the mirror I reply, “About to head out and shake my ass. These girls think they are something out here.”

  Celeste laughs, “You are always the life of the party. I can’t wait to see you this weekend.”

  “Me too. Marcia is excited you are coming.”

  Sighing into the phone Celeste states, “I just need a break from everyone, especially Jermaine.”

  “You sound down. What’s going on? Are you Okay?”

  “Everything is fine; he is just being an asshole. Typical Jermaine.”

  “Do you want to come here tonight? I will come to get you.”

  “No, I have an exam in the morning. Go show those raggedy girls how we Chesterfield girls get down. See you Friday.”

  “I love you, Celeste. To infinity.”

  “Love you too, Carmen And beyond.”

  That was the last time I spoke to my sister.

  Chapter Three

  Three Months Ago

  Most women my age spend all week looking forward to Friday night and going out with their friends, but I am the exception. My perfect evening consists of me being curled up in my soft King size bed while sipping a glass of wine. Unfortunately, that is not happening. Instead I am meeting Marcia, my best friend, at her company’s party. Last year Marcia started working for A. Werts, which is a large financial company. She is very excited about the annual summer party they host and I am being dragged there. I could care less about the financial world. The only time it was of interest was a few years ago, when I applied for a loan for my daycare center.

  So
here I am staring at myself in my full-length mirror thinking that I look half-way decent. My jet black hair is pulled up in a high bun, my MAC makeup is flawless and my full painted red lips look irresistible. I decide to wear a white strapless dress. The dress accentuates my shapely figure and hugs my apple-shaped butt. The contrast of the fabric and my caramel skin tone makes me look like an angelic being. I am having doubts about how my 34D’s look, because they have a mind of their own and are impossible to hide. Marcia calls them a gift, but they are more like a curse, a daily distraction especially when it comes to meeting someone of the opposite sex. They always seem more interested in the “girls” than in what I am saying.

  Men can be jackasses!

  Now that I have gotten myself worked up and full of doubt, maybe I shouldn’t go. There is nothing wrong with a single, 25-year-old woman who wants to stay at home on a Friday evening. Right? Pulling out my Samsung Galaxy phone, I decide I am not going. I text Marcia:

  Me: Not feeling well. Think I caught something from the center.

  Marcia: Don’t have time for your bullshit. Get here! Me: Really don’t feel well Marcia: Lies, you are the owner and you weren’t there this week. This is why you are single.

  Me: So are you Marcia: But I have a life and always have multiple orgasms. You have 20 minutes.

  Me: Fine Marcia: BTW…there is someone I want you to meet. Me: Wth? A blind date? No thank you. Marcia: You will thank me once those cob webs are dusted 

  Damnit, Marcia!

  The last thing I need is to be set up with someone. Is my life that pathetic? I have many things going for myself: 1. Owner of Essence of Learning Child Care Center 2. Debt free 3. No children, yes no children 4. 25 years old 5. In shape 6. Not super model status, but attractive

  Why does everyone think I need a man to define me?

  When my taxi arrives at this jaw dropping, million-dollar mansion located in Falls Church, VA, my stomach starts to flip. I’m consumed with the exterior beauty alone. The driveway is rounded with cobblestones. In the center features a cement water fountain, in the middle sits a mermaid sculpture, interesting enough. The house appears to sit on at least ten acres of land, with no other homes in sight. The grass is the greenest I’ve ever seen, and looks to have been cut within the last few days. The scent in the air smells not only of freshly cut grass but also of irises, lilacs, and lavender which are all planted in the variety of flower beds surrounding the front of the lawn. I walk up the granite steps, really allowing myself to take in the massive size of this beautiful dwelling. The front door is painted a bright red with a brass handle, which reminds me of the Red Door perfume. I wait patiently to be invited in after ringing the doorbell. An older man dressed in a black suit welcomes me; he must be a butler because looking at my surroundings, this party seems to be for a much younger crowd.

  “Good evening Miss, please do come in.” I smile sweetly and thank him.

  I search for Marcia, but not before my eyes fall on a group of gentleman, all standing in a circle. They seem to be in a rather heated discussion. I think to myself, ugh welcome to the corporate world, gotta love it! My name being called from a distance brings me back to focus. Thumping beats come from the speakers as Justin Timberlake sings one of his latest hits Suit & Tie. Now all I need is a man to ask me on the floor so I can show him some of my talented moves.

  I must have started daydreaming because Marcia stands in front of me with her hands on her hips asking me what I’d like to drink. “A glass of chardonnay would be perfect,” I respond.

  “Okay, let’s go to the back yard,” says Marcia.

  As we step out onto the deck, we have the perfect view of the party. There’s a huge white tent in the yard, with strings of lights going across, similar to an old clothesline. That’s when Marcia tells me the event is being catered by Natoli’s restaurant. This is quite impressive. The first waiter then approaches me with his tray, carrying fruit tarts which are topped with freshly sliced kiwi, strawberries, and pineapple. Taking one and putting it in my mouth, the exquisite taste is astonishing. The juices from the fruit are so sweet; it has to have been imported from a different state. I’ve never tasted fruit of this nature. I chase it down with a fine glass of Chardonnay. Something about the bitterness of the taste goes perfectly with the sweet tart. Other waiters are circling the yard with the trays of bacon wrapped dates with blue cheese, and of course, shrimp. As far as the main course, guests have the options of Chicken Marsala, Eggplant Rolatini, or Natoli’s Manicotti. Baskets of freshly baked bread sticks are placed strategically at the end of the buffet table for our convenience.

  Marcia sees a colleague and excuses herself. I love watching my best friend in her element with all the confidence. We have been best friends since the 10th grade, when I had just moved to Chesterfield Virginia. I was lost wandering the halls, and I literally bumped into this girl with fire engine red hair. Ever since that day we have been inseparable, even though we are the complete opposite of each other. Marcia is what people consider a rare beauty; she should be on the cover of Vogue, not in the finance world. Her body is naturally slim, and she never has to worry about dieting. I, on the other hand, have to work out five times a week, and it is pure hell. I was born with a natural tan (that Marcia claims to be jealous of) hazel eyes and jet black hair. She has porcelain skin, green eyes and fiery red hair.

  Damn, I am daydreaming. Marcia is smiling at me. I smile back until I see this beautiful creature with her. Fuck they are coming over here. I am going to kill her. This man is breath taking; he looks fine in his charcoal gray slacks that fit just below his obliques. If they were a half size bigger he would need much more than a belt to hold them up. He has matched them perfectly with his Cerulean blue button down shirt that seems to have quite the grip on his sculpted biceps. His tie has an assortment of blues, from cobalt to baby blue with a shade of gray in between. Looks like he has been dressed by someone at GQ, his coordination is damn right amazing. The blue shirt not only brings out his ocean blue eyes, but does wonders as well for his olive skin. I see his hair, and instantly want my hands all in it, it’s sandy blonde, short on the sides, longer on top, parts to the right, it dangles close enough to brush his eye. I want to move it for him myself, ugh! My imagination has to have gotten the best of me, as there cannot be such a thing as a hot perfectly groomed male with a great sense of fashion. I stand in my fitted white dress, hoping his ocean blues are not only interested in my chest. The hem lies right above the knee, the bottom lace fringe looks dazzling with my strappy silver wedge Steve Madden sandals that tie around my leg. I stand in a very inviting yet stylish pose, the kind where my full body can be admired. Okay, Carmen get it together. He is only a guy.

  Marcia is the first one to speak. “Cooper Jackson this is my best friend Carmen Williams.”

  Cooper extends his hand and I am hoping my palm is not sweaty as his large hand engulfs mine. He stares me in the eye never smiling, but I do notice a slight frown on his face. Shit do I have something in my teeth?

  “Well, you kids have fun. I see Francisco.” Marcia quickly walks away. I really have to remember to kill her.

  “Would you like another drink?” Cooper asks.

  “Yes, that would be wonderful.” Cooper flags down a waiter and hands me a drink. I thank him. There is an awkward silence.

  “So you work with Marcia?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

  “I do. And may I ask what you do for a living?”

  “I am a child care provider.”

  “Working with children requires a great deal of patience. Do you have any children of your own?”

  “Gosh no, I want to assist in helping children excel in life. My philosophy is the earlier you begin teaching kids, the better understanding and knowledge they will acquire, especially once they start school.”

  “I would have to agree with you on that.”

  “Do you have any kids?”

  “I don’t, which is a good thing because my job can be very d
emanding at times.”

  I’m so infatuated; that I stop paying attention to what he is saying as I watch his mouth move. I take a small sip of wine and catch Cooper staring at me, but why is he frowning? When I get home I will need two shots of tequila. God, he is beautiful, I could look at him forever and do naughty things with him, if only he would smile and stop frowning at me. I try to show a little cleavage and his frown grows deeper. What do I have to do to make this man want me? Cooper looks bored and irritated. The DJ announces that dinner is served.

  “After you,” Cooper says as he places his hand on the small of my back.

  Upon approaching the tent, I look to my right and see the dance floor. I think to myself, that the CEO must have put out a fortune for this party. The floor is oak wood, all boards laid with precision making a perfect square, big enough to hold at least 50-75 people. Speakers are found on every corner and the DJ’s booth located right before the floor begins. I step inside the tent, careful not to trip on cords running along the grass. I definitely don’t need to embarrass myself this early on. There are several tables inside, all draped in burgundy linen, with lights on the bottom hem, really causing the color to pop out. In the middle of the tables are glass bowls which have three floating candles, all white in the shape of roses. Shiny utensils paired with a table napkin of burgundy with white stripes circle around each individual place setting. On my left is where the entrees are stored in rectangle metal pans, with steam coming off them, compliments of the burners underneath. The staff looks eagerly pleased to serve us. There are three different courses to choose from. Cooper chooses Chicken Marsala while I choose the Manicotti. The waiter places our choices onto a crystal plate that has the design of a sunburst in the middle; the outer rim is trimmed in a fine line of silver. We make our way to be seated.