All I Want Is You Read online

  Stay in the loop!

  Can’t get enough romance from Iris Morland?

  * * *

  Sign up for my mailing list!

  * * *

  When you join, you’ll receive bonus content and links to giveaways along with new release announcements.

  * * *

  Thanks for reading!

  * * *

  Love, Iris

  Copyright © 2018 by Iris Morland

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  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.

  Cover art by Resplendent Media.

  Gavel vector art by Freepik from Flaticon.

  All I Want Is You

  The Youngers Book 3

  Iris Morland

  Blue Violet Press LLC

  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

  Epilogue

  Enjoy this exclusive excerpt

  Also by Iris Morland

  About the Author

  1

  Sighing deeply, her feet aching from standing all afternoon and evening, Emily Lassiter glanced at the clock on the wall of The Dine in Five and wanted to sigh all over again. She still had two hours left on her shift.

  Normally her waitressing shifts went by quickly, but tonight there was a dearth of customers, which meant there was only so much work to do. Her boss, Lawrence, had already sent two other waitresses home. Emily was just glad that she got to work tonight—she needed the money rather desperately.

  “Your table wants more ketchup,” said Lawrence as he passed her in the hallway. Middle-aged and married with three kids, Lawrence had been like a father figure to Emily ever since she’d gotten this job two years ago. When he looked at her pale face, he added, “You okay, kid?”

  Emily forced herself to smile. “Fine. Ketchup, you said? I’ll go get that.”

  Lawrence looked like he didn’t believe her, but thankfully his phone rang, effectively distracting him. Emily went to the kitchen and grabbed a full bottle of ketchup.

  The table in question had four guys about Emily’s age—four guys who’d been ogling her since the second she’d taken their orders. Emily was no stranger to male attention, something she both loved and hated for various reasons. Hated, because men tended to see only a pretty face and nothing else. Loved, because it had opened doors for her to become a model. Unfortunately, her few years of modeling had gone nowhere, and now here she was, waitressing and scraping together a living for herself and her younger brother, Josh.

  “Here you go,” she said, setting the ketchup on the table. “You guys need anything else?”

  One guy with a buzzed head and cleft chin eyed her up and down. Emily restrained from crossing her arms over her chest when his gaze lingered on her breasts.

  “You work here long?” the buzz-cut man asked. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  Emily barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “For a few years. You guys enjoy your meal.”

  Emily was tempted to tell Lawrence about this group, but she was tired of going to him when a male customer hit on her. Sometimes she blamed herself for the attention. Had she smiled too much? Given some kind of hint that she was interested? She always made certain to be polite and friendly, nothing more, but a niggle of doubt always bloomed inside her.

  Her customers now occupied with eating, she stepped outside into the cool night air for her break. Although it was July in Portland, the nights edged toward chilly sometimes. Emily wished she’d put on her sweater before stepping outside.

  But the cold disappeared from her mind as she began to calculate on her phone how much she’d already made tonight, adding it to the running total for the week. Tonight being so slow meant she’d make a lot less in tips, and when she saw the final pathetic number on her phone’s calculator, she wanted to cry. She was already on thin ice with her landlord as it was. The last three months, she’d paid the rent late, and he’d warned her that if she did it a fourth time, he’d evict her and Josh.

  That was the last thing she or Josh needed. Her younger brother, who had just turned sixteen, was both the love of her life and the bane of her existence. After their mother had died nine years ago, their father having passed away when Josh was a baby, Emily had become more of a mother to her brother than a sister. Josh had been a sweet, shy boy, interested in building trains and not much else. Within the last year, he’d not only shot up in height, but he’d gotten involved with a group of boys that had brought him nothing but trouble.

  Now her sweet baby brother was an angry teenager who skipped school, smoked, drank, and refused to do anything Emily told him to do. Just that morning, she’d gotten a call from Josh’s high school, telling her that he was practically failing everything except physical education. If he didn’t do something to improve his grades, he’d have to redo eleventh grade.

  Emily rubbed her temples. She couldn’t even help her brother with his grades, considering that she hadn’t graduated from high school, either. She could barely even read, although she’d done her best to keep that a secret from everyone, including Josh.

  She could always do those photos for Landon, her ex-boyfriend. Landon had promised her a hefty sum if she’d do nude photos for him. Emily had always told him no, not because she thought posing nude was wrong per se, but because that wasn’t the type of modeling she wanted to do. She preferred modeling clothes, not her body. It was a different set of skills, anyway, the ability to show off a dress or a top, versus showing off everything that God had given her.

  But right then, she was tempted to take Landon’s offer. What did it matter, anyway? She needed the money, Landon had the money, and it’d be a quick way to get it.

  And yet, she hesitated. Maybe that made her stupid, but right then, she’d prefer to be stupid than go against her own principles. Smiling bitterly, she realized that a person could only keep to their principles for so long until they were hungry enough not to care.

  Emily took another deep breath, then another, trying to center herself. She couldn’t break down right now. She needed to keep smiling so she’d get good tips. And if she was good at anything, it was making people feel at ease with her pretty smile and melodic voice.

  Returning inside the diner, she cleared plates and brought checks to the group of four guys. Emily hoped that the buzz-cut man would give up on getting her number, but when she came back with their receipts to sign, he said, “You got a boyfriend? Because if you don’t, you should give me your number.”

  She could smell alcohol on his breath as he leaned toward her. She took a step back as she shook her head. “I’m taken,” she lied. “Sorry about that.”

  She’d found that men tended to leave her alone if she said she was claimed, like she was an object that s
omeone had already called dibs on. It rankled, but it was better than men continuing to hit on her.

  Buzz-cut man, though, wasn’t going to be put off that easily. “I don’t see a ring,” he said. His grin turned to a leer. “Come on, sweetie. I saw how you looked at me. Don’t play dumb with me.”

  “I’m taken,” she said more firmly. “You guys have a good night.” She said the words in her coldest tone, and anyone with an ounce of brain cells could tell she was serious.

  The buzz-cut man scowled. “Bitch,” he muttered. “You’re not that pretty anyway.”

  Emily had heard every insult under the sun. She simply ignored the man, focusing on the new table of customers who were, thankfully, all women.

  Later, Emily collected the receipts from the guys’ table, and when she opened them to check for tips, she realized that all four had left her zero tips. The buzz-cut man’s receipt read, No tips for bitches, on the line for the tip amount. It took her a long moment to read what the man had written, and she was glad nobody was watching her try to read it. That only made things worse.

  When Emily finally deciphered what it said, she turned scarlet with anger. She swallowed against sudden tears. It was stupid, letting this get to her. When Lawrence came out of the kitchen, she forced back the tears. She wouldn’t let guys like that ruin her night.

  The rest of the night went smoothly, and although Emily ended the night with less tips than usual, it wasn’t as terrible as she’d been expecting. Lawrence handed her the stack of cash after going through the receipts.

  “Here,” he said, handing her an extra twenty-dollar bill. “For those assholes who didn’t tip you.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “No, but I’m going to. You know you can always tell me when guys harass you.”

  His probing look made her glance away; she shrugged. “If I came to you every time, you wouldn’t do anything else.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly.

  Emily was on the bus home when her phone rang. Considering how late it was and that she didn’t recognize the number, she let it go to voicemail. The same number called her a second time, though, and she picked up with an annoyed, “Hello?”

  “Is this Emily Lassiter?”

  Emily didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. Was it a bill collector? Her blood froze. Or was it somebody from her apartment, telling her she was getting kicked out? She stuttered out yes and waited for the bad news, never expecting what she’d actually hear.

  “This is Officer Monroe at the Multnomah County Detention Center. Your brother has been arrested and is in our custody.”

  Emily was glad she was sitting down; otherwise she would’ve collapsed onto the floor of the bus from shock. Arrested? “Oh God, what did he do? Is he okay? Can I talk to him?”

  “He’s fine, ma’am.” The officer cleared his throat, and Emily heard voices in the background. “He was pulled over this afternoon after a friend of his was allegedly involved in a robbery. Your brother was the driver of the getaway vehicle.”

  “I want to talk to him. Is he there? Can I come see him?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, no. He’ll have a hearing that will include any charges filed against him within twenty-four hours. You’ll be able to see him then.” The man paused before adding, “I’d recommend finding an attorney immediately, if I were you.”

  Emily’s heart sank into her toes. “I can’t afford a lawyer,” she whispered.

  “Then your brother will be appointed one by the county. Let me have you talk to Harry here. He’ll fill you in on everything you need to know about what’ll happen going forward.”

  By the time Emily arrived home, she could only sit down on her threadbare couch and stare at the wall. The adrenaline that had been racing through her body had turned to ice in her veins. She’d heard the words felony and tried as an adult and aiding and abetting and all she’d wanted to do was talk to Josh, to hear his side of the story, to understand what had really happened.

  Emily put her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She’d never felt so out of her depth, so terrified of something she had no knowledge of. She’d never even gotten so much as a speeding ticket, and here her baby brother was, arrested and facing serious charges.

  Her head pounded. Exhaustion swamped her until she could barely find the energy to get up from the couch and go to her bedroom. Before she did, though, she went to Josh’s room, staring at the empty bed—never made, of course—the desk covered in everything but schoolwork. Posters of bands that Emily had never heard of hung on the walls, while clothes were scattered over the floor. She sat down on his bed, and she smiled even as tears pricked her eyes when she saw the photo of herself and Josh on his nightstand.

  Josh had been twelve in the photo, and Emily had still been modeling. She touched Josh’s face in the photo, a sob breaking through. Where had her little brother gone? And what if she couldn’t get him back?

  She clutched the photo to her chest, lying down on Josh’s bed, inhaling the teenage boy scent that permeated the sheets. She wished her mom were alive, although part of her was glad she wouldn’t see her son like this. No, this would’ve broken their mom’s heart; she’d had such big plans for both Emily and Josh.

  Tears leaking from her eyes, Emily held the photo close until she fell into a restless slumber.

  2

  Phin Younger tapped his pen against the table as he waited for somebody from the DA’s office to show up for this court case. Phin’s client, a sixteen-year-old who’d been the driver of a getaway car for his friend who’d committed a robbery—slumped in his chair despite Phin’s admonition that he should sit up.

  Josh Lassiter was tall and bulky for his age and looked much older than sixteen. He had a sulky turn to his mouth that Phin had recognized the second he’d shaken the kid’s hand and introduced himself as his court-appointed lawyer. Josh had sneered and told him in no uncertain terms that he was wasting his time.

  Phin often felt like he was wasting his time—or rather, like he was fighting a losing battle with these cases. As a court-appointed lawyer who worked in the county’s public defender’s office, Phin got the cases of people who couldn’t afford a fancy lawyer. Phin was his client’s only chance at either getting out of prison or at least getting less time. But with more and more cases piling onto his desk, Phin could only help so many people. And there were always too many people needing help.

  The courtroom door opened and, turning, Phin watched a harried woman hurry down the aisle toward them. Her dark hair was falling out of a bun, and her blouse was lopsided; she’d most likely missed a button in her haste.

  “Mr. Younger?” the woman said as she approached Phin.

  Josh muttered something, and it took Phin only a moment to put two and two together. This must be Josh’s sister, his legal guardian. “Yes,” said Phin as he stood and shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Emily Lassiter.” She looked over Phin’s shoulder, her gaze worried as she tried to catch Josh’s eye. Her brother was studiously not looking at her; her shoulders slumped. “Thank you for your help,” she said sincerely.

  Despite her rumpled appearance, Emily Lassiter was absolutely gorgeous. Ridiculously, absurdly, unbelievably gorgeous. There were too many adverbs to describe her beauty, if he were honest. Phin stared down at her, suddenly struggling to find the words to reply to her. Seeing her up close was rather like getting hit by a train.

  There was no other way to describe it. Even with her hair a mess and her blouse lopsided, she had the widest, prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. With her heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, and milky skin, she could’ve graced the pages of some magazine. Even her nose was pretty: tilted slightly upward, it was as delicate as the rest of her.

  As someone who worked with the public, Phin had learned how to talk to people, despite it not being his greatest strength. He’d learned that men respected frankness wit
h a touch of arrogance, while women preferred a kinder approach—less frank, more conciliatory. Phin had worked with people from all walks of life: from high-powered executives to criminals who’d never known an ounce of kindness in their entire lives.

  He’d worked with nice people, annoying people, stupid people, mean people. He’d learned how to use language to make people do what he wanted, something he’d struggled to do as a child who was too cripplingly shy and awkward to string coherent sentences together.

  This ability he’d supposedly perfected apparently didn’t stretch to women he found attractive. And Jesus Christ, Emily Lassiter looked like she’d stepped out of a painting into this dingy courtroom.

  Swallowing, his mind racing, Phin shuffled some papers on his desk before finally saying bluntly, “You should sit down before the judge gets annoyed.”

  The judge was drinking coffee as he waited for some bit of paperwork to read over, but Emily blushed all the same and sat down without another word. Phin wanted to kick himself. When he saw Josh smirking at him, Phin wanted to tell the boy to mind his own damn business.

  “What’s taking so long?” said Josh as they waited. “Why did I have to get up this fucking early for no reason?”

  “Most of what’s going to happen going forward is going to be you waiting,” said Phin quietly.

  Finally, the hearing began.