Blue collar bad boys, p.1
Blue Collar Bad Boys,
p.1
Blue Collar Bad Boys Box Set
Chelsea Camaron
Contents
Introduction
Content Warning
Production Acknowledgements
Stay up to date
Series Order
Maverick
1. MaKenzy
2. Maverick
3. MaKenzy
4. Maverick
5. MaKenzy
6. Maverick
7. MaKenzy
8. Maverick
9. MaKenzy
10. Maverick
11. MaKenzy
12. Maverick
13. MaKenzy
14. Maverick
15. MaKenzy
16. Maverick
MaKenzy
The End
Diabetes Information
Introduction
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2019, 2018, 2015
Content Warning
Production Acknowledgements
Stay up to date
Heath
LoraLeigh
Prologue
17. Heath
18. LoraLeigh
19. Heath
20. LoraLeigh
21. Heath
22. LoraLeigh
23. Heath
24. LoraLeigh
25. Heath
26. LoraLeigh
27. Heath
28. LoraLeigh
Epilogue
Note from the Author
Introduction
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2019, 2018, 2015
Content Warning
Production Acknowledgements
Stay up to date
Lance
Untitled
Welcome to my every secret …
Prologue
Candace
29. Lance
30. Candace
31. Lance
32. Candace
33. Lance
34. Candace
35. Lance
36. Candace
37. Lance
38. Candace
39. Lance
40. Candace
Epilogue
Note from the Author
Untitled
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2019, 2018
Content Warning
Production Acknowledgements
Stay up to date
Wendol
Jessika
Prologue
41. Wendol
42. Jessika
43. Wendol
44. Jessika
45. Wendol
46. Jessika
47. Wendol
48. Jessika
49. Wendol
50. Jessika
Introduction
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2019
Content Warning
Production Acknowledgements
Stay up to date
Reese
Chesney
Prologue
51. Chesney
52. Reese
53. Chesney
54. Reese
55. Chesney
56. Reese
57. Chesney
58. Reese
59. Chesney
60. Reese
The End
About the Author
Untitled
Maverick
Blue Collar Bad Boys 1
* * *
* * *
Written by
USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author
Chelsea Camaron
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2019, 2018, 2015, 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or electronic or mechanical methods, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
* * *
ISBN: 978-1099800412 (Paperback)
* * *
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Thank you for downloading/purchasing this eBook. This eBook and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download/purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
* * *
First edition published May 2014
* * *
Carolina Dreams Publishing
PO Box 527
Hubert, NC 28539
Created with Vellum
Content Warning
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are adults over the age of 18.
* * *
This series was originally published as the Roughneck series. Reading order and content have not changed just the series title.
Production Acknowledgements
1st Edition Published: May 2014 as part of the Moments in Time Anthology
Published Independently by Chelsea Camaron 2015
* * *
Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli, Pam Berehulke, and C&D Editing
Formatting by: IndieVention Designs
Original Cover Design by: IndieVention Designs Cover picture: Shutterstock
* * *
2017 Updated Cover picture: Shutterstock
2017 Updated Version edits by: Emma Mack - Ultra Editing
* * *
2019 Updated Cover Photo Credits: Deposit Photos
Crusitu Robert-Lucian (crstrbrt)
Ysbrand Cosijn (ysbrand)
2019 Title Page Vector Credit: Deposit Photos
Tetiana Kovalenko (spline_x)
Stay up to date
Do you want to get bonus scenes, sale updates, new release information and more?
Click here to sign up for my newsletter!
* * *
Want to get an email direct to you with every new release or sale?
Follow me on Bookbub!
* * *
Connect directly with me anytime at:
www.authorchelseacamaron.com
Series Order
Maverick
Heath
Lance
Wendol
Reese
Maverick
Invisible – Unseen
“He was the high school crush who never knew I existed. I’m still the shy girl hiding against the wall.” Kenzy
* * *
Life for Kenzy Davis is far from easy right now. After ending a long-term relationship, she is back in Odessa, Texas, starting over.
Maverick “Tapper” Collins works hard and plays even harder.
His world is shaken at its very core. Everything he ever took for granted stares him in the face, including the shy girl from his past.
The ICU nurse caring for his dad is a woman from his past he never noticed, but now he can’t seem to forget. Does Maverick find comfort in her embrace? Is he the calm to Kenzy’s chaos in life?
One thing is certain, she’s not invisible anymore!
Dedication
“Daba”
A man who lived his life as a true example of what a good man is.
* * *
This book is dedicated to the memory of my father-in-law. My daughter affectionately called him “Daba”. This story is very personal to me in going back to what our family faced as we watched helplessly while an invisible disease slowly and painfully took him from us. He lost his first leg in 2003 and his second in 2007. We laid him to rest in 2008 after a long battle with Type 2 diabetes.
This silent killer destroyed a twenty-year Air Force veteran. He was not morbidly obese. He was an active man who loved hunting, fishing, and more than that, he loved his family. I was blessed to have him in my life for the time I did. I continue to be blessed in the example he was for his son. My husband is the man he is today because he had an amazing dad to guide him and teach him.
Thank you, Daba, for the gift you have given me in your son. More than that, thank you for the memories we made in the years I had as your daughter-in-law. You are in our hearts, minds, and with us everywhere we go.
* * *
Loving and missing you with every breath we take.
One
MaKenzy
“Come on, Macky.”
I cringe at his pet name. Honestly, I can’t stand his voice, either. It’s funny how quickly love can turn to disgust. You will not become the crazy cat lady, or bad lady, or whatever! You will pick up the pieces and make life work! I mentally tell myself that being alone is better than being disrespected.
Ignoring the man in front of me, I tape the last box shut then lift it to make my way out of the front door.
The door that taunts me.
This door that once was so important to me now is nothing more than a piece of art that should be thrown out with the trash.
The custom door with our initials cut into stained glass that we spent hours, days actually mulling over is a beautiful reminder of what might have
been, what could have been, and what I believed would one day be. It was the piece to symbolize our beginning, our becoming one. The house doesn’t mean anything anymore. The promises made, the life that was supposed to be created here—it was all built on lies. The door is simply another thing to walk away from like this life I was building.
Today, I leave it all behind. The dreams of what could have been are gone and the realities of what will never be are ahead of me.
“You don’t have to do this, Macky.” The whine in his tone only grates on my nerves more. “I’m in counseling now. My therapist says there’s hope for me to live a normal life.”
Normal. What is normal, really? Is anyone actually normal? What constitutes a normal life? I would ask him to define this further for me, but why waste my breath, my voice, or anymore of my time? He’s had enough of all of me, he doesn’t get anymore.
Five years.
Five years, I have lived in a bubble of ignorance with this man.
My college sweetheart, Robert. Oh, the pedestal I had him on. Five years together, loving, trusting, and building a life, a future for us. Five years—it just plays over and over in my mind. I spent all of this time living in the clouds of having a happily-ever-after with him, all while he was busy spreading his seed far and wide around the Houston area.
Apparently, he didn’t get the memo that we were in a monogamous relationship.
When not one but two of my coworkers popped up pregnant within six weeks of each other—both of them by my boyfriend—I had to face some facts.
The first: there wasn’t something in the water. Nope, there was something going in them, but it wasn’t the water, it was my boyfriend. I tried to joke my way around the realities. In the end, it was simply him not keeping his dick in his pants. It wasn’t the moon, or some other shift in the tides, it was him.
The second: Robert and his mistresses are the blame. While he swore they were temptresses with the pull of their voodoo and pheromones, in the end, he played his part in it. As much as I wanted to hate my so-called friends, it wasn’t completely their fault. It does take two after all. Add them my list of things to face. Yes, plural, both of them. These women are, in fact not my friends, since they knew the man they were sleeping with was living with me. How they could even look me in the eye and consider us friends while having copious amounts of sex with my man … well, it’s beyond me.
Also add, I was hopelessly in love with the douchebag. I feel stupid. I feel broken. The pity-party is done. I am ready to move on. I want to blame them, put a Band-Aid on this, and find a way to move on like it never happened.
Only, it isn’t about them in the grand scheme of things.
No, this is about my realities. This is about my failing relationship. They were just a small part of my cold dose of reality. The little things I had seen over the years and pushed aside, then made excuses for, were indeed signs I should have read more clearly. Now, after spending months trying to sort out the mess of my relationship before determining it was time to let go, I am numb.
In the five years we were together, he was only faithful approximately one year. Honestly, I am possibly being generous in giving him that much time. My stomach churns thinking of how many others there were.
Sex addiction, he calls it.
Stupidity, irresponsibility, selfishness, immaturity, greediness, and any other way I can describe his inability to own up to his mistakes is what I call it.
The box grows heavy in my arms. It’s a physical reminder of the weight of this relationship that is slowing me down. I hear him whining my name as I continue down the steps of what was once our front porch and walkway to the front drive, all while ignoring him. There is nothing left to say.
Making my way to the overly full moving truck waiting for me, I move the box to my left hip, so I can inspect my packing. Sighing, I set the box on the ground to free my hands to move a few things to make the space I need. One more box. Once I get this last box inside the truck, I will pull down the door, latch it, climb in the driver seat, and drive away from this life.
Far away.
Okay not like another country far, but there’s going to be enough distance between me and him that I can hit the reset button on my life.
Like a dog seeking a bone, Robert is on my heels, still digging for a crumb. The more he talks, the more he sounds like a little yappy mutt nipping at my calves, looking for any sign of attention.
It’s over. Deuces. Peace out. I fold. I tap out. My white flag is waving. Moving on. Hello, giant moving truck in the driveway! Buy a clue, mister! God, I want to scream at him.
Turning to face him, I roll my eyes at the sight of tears pooling in his. “Enough,” I bark out harshly.
“Macky, you can’t be serious.”
I put both my hands up Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune style. “See this? This is a moving truck. When you cheat, the prize for this puzzle is your freedom. And more importantly, MY freedom!”
“The doc says, with a twelve step program, I’ll be okay.”
I laugh in his face. “What doctor is this? The one online? It’s over, Robert.”
“Macky, come on, baby. I can’t afford the house and shit without you,” he pleads, the truth finally washes over me.
Wow, I should be surprised. I should be livid. A piece of me is, but something inside of me simply needs to have this over. The reality is, I’m nothing but a paycheck to him. Not a partner, not a lover, and probably not even a friend. Nope, I am merely a meal ticket. Staying won’t change anything, but it will degrade me further.
Thankfully, I have come to terms with our situation. The tears have all been shed. The anger has simmered. All the mixed emotions have twisted like a bad tornado on a path of destruction leaving my shattered heart and life in the rearview. Now it’s time to rebuild, reform, and regain my dignity amongst my pride, my confidence, and every other aspect of my life.
Reality bites sometimes. Too bad I didn’t know all of this five years ago. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, they say. Well, it sure rings true right now.
I feel like a sad love song. He’s had the best of me, and now he doesn’t want the rest of me.
