Captivated On 5th Avenue

By: Abbie St. Claire

5th Avenue Romance Romance, Book Three






Dear Reader,




This series has taken me some time to finish and I’m grateful for your patience. I hope you enjoy this story and fall in love with falling in love as my characters find their happily-ever-after.

To the many that have written me and asked if there will be more books in this series, the answer is yes, there are more planned. Some of the couples in the book still have a story to tell.

I won’t spoil it, even if you try to twist my arm You’ll just have to stay tuned!

Follow me on my website or social media to find out more.

There’s no greater compliment to an author than to share about their work. If you enjoy something you’ve read, tell your friends.

Books are a beautiful escape… to write just as much to read. I’m humbled that anyone would want to read my stories.

Hugs and hearts,

Abbie





Chapter One





Ian




Burning desire

Hopeless thoughts

Endless pain—both physical and mental

Waking up every day loving her—stings even deeper with every sunrise I have to face without her, touching her, listening to her laughter—that glorious sound that first drew me in

She made me happy

She gave me strength

She provided me hope to beat my demons

She completed me in every way

She holds my heart

Without her, I’m lost

Without her, my life has less purpose

Without her, I’m nothing but a lifeless shell

Without her—I’m broken

She’s strong. She pushes on, and the last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt her

She would always be my world, but I can no longer be hers

I bore the sword



“Are you about to fill another journal, Ian?” Linda poured me another glass of lemonade while I sat on the porch of my cabin overlooking the Montana sky. She was an attentive nurse and had been very patient with me.

“Yeah.” I closed my personal book. “Same words, same misery, same, same, same…”

“You know, you get a new sunrise every day to change that, don’t you?”

What the fuck did Linda know about addiction? How did she know what it meant to break promises to those you loved the most?

“She’ll never understand. She’ll never forgive me and for that, I cannot forgive myself.”

“You know, sometimes forgiveness comes organically. You never have to ask, because that person loves you enough. Don’t try to figure out how she’s going to react. Trust her.”

I was a voluntary resident, fighting my addiction to prescription medications. It wasn’t my first go at rehab, not even close. But, if I were to get Chelsie back, gain her forgiveness, I wanted to be one hundred and fifty percent for all of us.

Forgiveness, yeah, that’s a pipe dream. Once her eyes are opened to the real me, I’ll watch her be the one to walk away.

Chelsie had begged me to give her answers I couldn’t in that parking lot right after the accident. She thought the woman with me was my new lover; little did she know that Marigold was my sponsor. Once again, I hurt her with deception and didn’t even try to stop it.

So much the coward.

The one time I had the courage to reach out to her, I found her blasting social media with someone new. It ripped me. I hit walls and drilled my fists to bury my pain. She said she loved me—begged me to talk to her—to come back. She wanted something I didn’t have to give—she wanted me.

I belonged to the demons inside—the drugs were my conscience. It was a battle I’d fought repeatedly, but only rising to the partial victor and then failing again miserably.

Then when I closed my eyes, I remembered. Our last night together in her room was incredible. The most beautiful and erotic night I’d ever had. She craved me more than I could physically stand. It took everything of me not to release the moment I entered her. The moans that escaped her lips cried out like a hungry animal ready to consume their prey.



She was my everything, and I hurt her more than I could even begin to imagine. Hiding behind the need to protect her did not make me a man. Not even close.

I asked her to remember. I prayed she’d never forget…





Chapter Two





Chelsie




Bump, Bump, Bump



Started by the noise, I jerked my eyes up from my phone to the passenger window. A familiar face peered through the glass. With fumbling fingers, I rolled the window down.

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