The Falling Series Box Set Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Falling Series

  Books in the Falling Series

  Dear Reader

  Falling for Lucy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Falling for June

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Falling for Maria

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Falling for Sydney

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  More romances in the Falling series:

  About Heather B. Moore

  Copyright © 2018 by Mirror Press, LLC

  E-book edition

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Interior design by Cora Johnson

  Cover design by Rachael Anderson

  Cover image credit: Deposit Photos #54748129, Anna Demy

  Published by Mirror Press, LLC

  Books in the Falling Series

  Falling for Lucy

  Falling for June

  Falling for Maria

  Falling for Sydney

  Dear Reader,

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  Heather

  It was raining, again. Well, it is Seattle, Lucy thought. But did it have to rain in July? She pushed open the door to the bookstore where she was interviewing for a job. If she got the job, it would be her third job this year.

  No, she wasn’t a college graduate with a great job like her older sister, Sydney, had in Santa Rosa. Sydney was a VP of a software firm. No, Lucy wasn’t like her younger brother, who’d graduated college in three years and was now getting his master’s.

  Lucy was Lucy. At least that was what she’d overheard her whole life. She seemed to fail at everything she tried. She’d been cut from the basketball team her junior year. She’d never been chosen for a solo with the school choir. No matter how hard she studied, she always got at least one B+. She changed her major three times in her first two semesters of college at the University of Washington.

  Her parents weren’t even surprised when she told them she was dropping out of college. In fact, she suspected they were surprised she’d lasted two whole semesters. It was probably because she liked to read and learn, just not while surrounded by eager-beaver-type students.

  As she stepped into the bookstore, the sound of rain and traffic faded, and the familiar smell of books soaked into her, making her feel at ease even though she’d come for a job interview.

  The bookstore was small and quaint, and every shelf of the rows of bookcases was stuffed with books, some of them haphazardly. Lucy wanted to start straightening a nearby shelf, but she restrained herself.

  A phone rang in the direction of the sales register desk, and a door opened somewhere in the back. “Coming,” said a deep, gravelly voice.

  Through the shelves, Lucy caught sight of an older man, tall, lean, a slight hunch to his shoulders. He sported a short, gray goatee, and a pencil was tucked behind one ear. He wore reading glasses propped on top of his head. “Parks Bookstore,” he said, after picking up the phone.

  Lucy moved down another aisle, not wanting to eavesdrop, although she was pretty certain the man was Mr. Parks—the owner and the one who’d be interviewing her soon.

  “No, that comes in Thursday,” he continued. “Do you want me to put it on hold for you?” He removed the pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something down. A moment later, he hung up the phone.

  It was at that moment Lucy bumped into a tall, narrow table, knocking it hard enough to upset the stacks of books. Several of them tumbled onto the floor. She bent to scoop up the latest hardbacks of John Grisham and James Rollins.

  Before she was able to set the display to rights, she sensed that someone was watching her. She looked up to see Mr. Parks peering down at her, his dark green eyes framed by the reading glasses perched on his nose.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lucy rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to knock this over.”

  “No one ever does,” Mr. Parks said in a kind voice. He bent to retrieve the final book from the floor. “I’m afraid my son doesn’t have the organizational skills that his mother did. Books are continually toppling over at one place or another.” He set the book on the crowded display table, and Lucy adjusted it so that it wasn’t so close to the edge.

  “Say,” Mr. Parks continued. “I like your arrangement. Do you need a job?”

  He’d said it in jest, but Lucy realized he didn’t know who she was.

  “Actually, I do need a job.” Lucy gave him a nervous smile, hoping he didn’t think she was too presumptuous. “I’m Lucy Morley, and I’m here for a job interview.”

  Mr. Parks narrowed his eyes as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “You’re here for an interview? Did my son call you?”

  “Uh,” Lucy scrambled for a reply. “You emailed me when I answered an online ad. We made all the arrangements by email.” What if she was here on the wrong day? Or, even worse, what if this was the wrong bookstore? Was this store a chain? She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her emails. She pulled up the last email she’d received from Mr. Parks.

  She held out the phone so Mr. Parks could see it. He adjusted his reading glasses and read through the email. “That’s us all right, although I’m not the one who emailed you. It appears that my son went behind my back.”

  Lucy stared at the man. She’d stepped into the middle of a family feud, it seemed. “I—I didn’t realize. I’m sorry for knocking over the books, and I’ll just be going now.”

  She pocketed her phone and turned away quickly so that Mr. Parks wouldn’t see her face flaming with embarrassment.

  She was almost to the front door when Mr. Parks said, “Wait a minute.”

  Lucy paused, her heart hammering. She didn’t really want to turn around and face the man because she didn’t trust herself not to cry. It wasn’t really that she’d cry over a mistaken interview, but nothing had gone right this week. Not only had she been fired from the neighborhood deli on Wednesday, but she had late fees on her car payment because the check she’d mailed had bounced, incurring even more fees. And her roommate was moving, which meant Lucy would be stuck with the full rent unless she could find someone in the next two weeks
.

  It seemed that Mr. Parks was waiting for her to turn around.

  She exhaled slowly, then turned.

  He held up a rather large cell phone. “My son tells me I need to check my texts more often, but I tell him I don’t need any sort of fancy device. It looks like he sent me a text about the interview. He was planning on being here too, but this morning he went to help his sister move.” Mr. Parks motioned her toward the cash register. “Come on back, we might as well do the interview, or I’ll be sure to hear about it from Adam.”

  She assumed that Adam was the son who’d posted the job opening.

  “If there’s not an opening, then I don’t want to waste your time.” Lucy was mortified enough, and spending even more time with Mr. Parks would be pointless.

  Mr. Parks gave her a faint smile. “Last year, I made my son the legal owner, so you might say he’s the boss. Come on. I need to report back to him.”

  “All right,” Lucy said, although she still felt reluctant and very, very awkward.

  Mr. Parks pulled a chair from a reading nook and moved it toward the sales register desk. Then he perched on the stool behind the counter. “This gives me the best view of any customer coming into the shop.”

  Lucy sat in the proffered chair and clasped her hands together.

  “Now, tell me about yourself,” Mr. Parks said.

  Lucy hadn’t expected this. She didn’t know if he meant personal things or academic things. “I’ve gone to college for a year,” she said. “And until recently, I was working at a deli.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask why she wasn’t working there anymore. She didn’t know if she could adequately explain that she’d almost been arrested for stealing, when she in fact was only giving an extra sandwich to a guy she thought was homeless. Apparently, he was hitting up all the eating establishments in town.

  “Do you like to read?” Mr. Parks asked.

  This Lucy could easily answer. “I love to read.” Sometimes to her detriment. It wasn’t exactly her fault that she discovered Brandon Sanderson books her second week in college. She blamed that on her English teacher for putting one of his series on the recommended reading list. Lucy read the first Mistborn book and was hooked.

  Mr. Parks nodded. “What hours are you available?”

  “Your, uh, son posted it as a part-time job, but I can work more hours if needed.”

  “Would you consider yourself good at organizing?” Mr. Parks asked.

  She hesitated. It would be so easy to say yes, especially if that was Mr. Parks’s main concern. She could definitely help organize the bookstore. She sighed and looked directly into the man’s green eyes. “I can organize, and I would be happy to organize the bookstore if you hire me. Though I must say that I’m not a generally organized person.”

  Mr. Parks chuckled. “I like your answer. I like honest people, and you’re honest.”

  Lucy flushed at the compliment.

  “Great to meet you, Miss Lucy,” Mr. Parks said. “I’ll let Adam know that I wholeheartedly approve of you.” He leaned forward. “Can you start today?”

  Adam moved the dresser into place in the spare bedroom of his dad’s house. It used to be his sister Darci’s room when she was a kid. And now, after divorce number three, she was moving back home with Dad. Again. It had been an unfortunate pattern with his sister. If the pattern held true, a few weeks or months would pass, and she’d find a new boyfriend and move out again.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have any kids of her own, so she wasn’t dragging a child through all of her mud.

  “Home sweet home.” Darci walked into the bedroom. She blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke.

  Adam straightened. “Dad doesn’t want you smoking in the house.”

  His sister pursed her red-painted lips and shrugged. “He’s not here.”

  Adam exhaled. He’d spent four hours moving her stuff, and now she wanted to throw attitude around? “If you’re going to live here, rent free, you need to respect Dad’s wishes.”

  Darci stubbed her cigarette on the dresser. The dark wood was marred enough with what Adam suspected were other cigarette burns and who knew what else. “Mom smoked,” she said narrowing her blue eyes. Darci was a carbon copy of their mom—blue eyes, blonde hair, sassy personality. Adam took after their dad, with green eyes and dark hair.

  “Mom died of lung cancer, in case you don’t remember,” Adam spit out. Sometimes Darci brought out the worst in him.

  “Yeah, like I don’t remember how Mom died!” her voice was shrill.

  “So why do you keep smoking?” he shot back.

  “You don’t understand,” Darci said. “I’m going through hell right now.”

  It was time for Adam to back down. He moved past her and was surprised she didn’t try to trip him in the doorway. Even though Adam was twenty-seven and Darci was almost thirty, they resorted to acting like elementary school kids when they were around each other too long. “I’ve got to get back to the shop,” he said in a very controlled voice. “Dad usually comes home by three or four.”

  “Okay,” Darci said in a grudging tone. “Is there any food in the fridge?” she called out before he reached the front door.

  “I don’t live here anymore,” he said. “You’ll have to check.” Before Darci could say anything else, he hurried outside, pulling the door shut behind him. He wanted to slam his fist into something hard. Maybe the pain would feel better than the pain that being around Darci caused.

  Adam jumped in his small truck and drove back to the bookstore. His stomach grumbled, but he didn’t want to take the time to stop and grab something to eat. His dad had covered for him with the interview, and he needed to get updated on that. Also, it was hard to enjoy food when his stomach was in knots over his exchange with his sister. He hated that she smoked so blatantly around him—as if she were purposely trying to piss him off. As if she were mocking the anguish the entire family went through with their mom’s cancer.

  His mom had been a smoker for as long as he could remember, and four years ago, she’d received the fatal diagnosis of lung cancer. Darci was in between marriages one and two, and she was an emotional basket case, which pretty much meant she wasn’t going to step in to help Dad care for Mom. Adam took his last semester of college classes online so that he could work full-time in the bookstore and allow his dad more time with his mom.

  To save money and help with hospital bills, Adam considered moving back home. But with Darci in the house at the same time, it was like ice and fire trying to coexist. Instead, Adam converted the storage room at the bookstore into a makeshift bedroom. He’d been there ever since. It wasn’t much to show off to any of his friends, or any woman he might happen to date, but he spent most of the day with his dad, so it was nice to have some space to himself after the shop closed for the night.

  And now with Darci moving back home, he was glad he wouldn’t have to share living space with her.

  Adam turned at the final traffic light before the bookstore then pulled around the back of the shop. There was a small parking lot on the side of the store, but he always parked in the back so the customers would have more room. He jumped out of the truck, glad that his temper had simmered down. He didn’t want it to carry over to the customers—not that there would be a lot on a Monday afternoon.

  When he came in through the back door, he didn’t see his dad. Adam opened the door to his bedroom/storage room, but his dad wasn’t there.

  “Dad?” Adam called as he walked around the closest bookcase.

  “Oh!” a woman said, flinching, then dropping a stack of books she carried.

  Instinctively, Adam moved forward to try to catch the books. He caught one, but the others tumbled to the floor.

  “Oh, no.” The woman knelt and stacked the books into a pile. “I—I can’t believe I did this again.”

  “Again?” he asked.

  She looked up, and Adam finally got a good look at her. The woman’s brown eyes were bright, intelligent, but she looked dis
tressed. Her dark blonde hair looked as if she’d come through a windstorm, unless it was one of those “messy buns” he’d heard about. She was about his age, he guessed, and quite pretty—if he was going to be honest.

  “Why are you getting so many books?” he asked. “Book club?”

  “Ah, no.” She sat back on her heels. “I work here. I’m just rearranging a few things. If there’s something you need to find, I’m afraid that I’m new—”

  “Wait.” Adam held up a hand. “You work here?”

  Her voice was a little defiant when she said, “Yes.” Then her gaze shifted as she scanned him. “Are you Adam Parks?”

  He nodded as it dawned on him who this woman was—this new employee. “Lucy Morley?”

  Her brows shot up. “Yep.”

  “My father hired you already?”

  Her eyes filled with panic.

  “I mean, it’s okay,” he rushed to say. “I’m surprised, that’s all.” This was not going well. He rubbed the side of his face. “I thought he’d wait to talk to me first ... Never mind.”

  “I was pretty surprised myself,” Lucy said in a quiet voice. “I hope I can meet your expectations, Mr... . Parks.”

  “Adam is fine.” He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  She shook his hand tentatively. Her hand was warm, soft. Warm. Soft. He blinked. “What can I help you with?”

  Her smile emerged then. And she had dimples. “I think I should be asking you that question.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you’re doing, I’m sure my dad will be thrilled with any help. Where is he, by the way?”

  “He went to get coffee.” Lucy reached to push some of her wild strands away from her face.

  Adam sighed. “I think my dad likes a woman who works at the coffee shop down the street.”

  Her brows lifted. “Are your parents not ...”

  “My dad’s a widower.” He stood with one of the piles of books and set it on top of the closest bookcase. “In the last few weeks, he’s gone to get coffee three times a day.”

  “How long has he been widowed?” Lucy stood as well, holding the rest of the books.