Love Disregarded by Rachel Blaufeld Published by Self on 7/8/20
Genres: Contemporary Romance
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When I first met Aston Prescott, I thought I’d be able to let go of him.
I was naive.
He belonged to the private club where I worked, and despite the vast difference in our social status, I still fell for him. I thought he fell for me too, and that our love would overcome any obstacles.
But our relationship was discounted by everyone around us. Our families didn’t support us, and our friends avoided us.
So we moved on with our lives, but then everything fell apart.
The man who once abandoned me is now seeking comfort in my arms, and this time, I’m not sure if I can give in.
Because if I do, I may never be able to let him go again.
Love Disregarded, an all-new, second chance standalone romance with all the feels from Rachel Blaufeld is available now!
Love Disregarded by Rachel Blaufeld was an emotional and angst-filled second chance romance. When Bexley met Aston Prescott, she knew he was not for her. She worked at the country club where his family were members. And yet their relationship blossomed, until he walked away. Now years later he is back and he is determined to win her heart again.
Bexley and Aston come from different worlds, but Aston knows this is their time and he is willing to fight for her. But in some ways, their lives are still very complicated. They are each divorced with children. Can they face the obstacles in front of them and move forward?
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Excerpt
“Remember when we first met? Christ, we were young.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it stick up at the ends. Cass would have sneered and told me I needed a haircut.
Bexley, who was standing right in front of me, didn’t say a word. We were facing each other, but she left enough space between us so I couldn’t touch her. My hand shook, wanting to close the divide.
“I was a kid then,” she said. “A foolish, smitten girl looking into a window of a world I knew better than to think I’d ever belong to.”
“Nah, you did belong. Do belong. The only foolish person was me. What I mean is, you were the first person I’d ever come clean to, been honest with, you know? I’d never really told anyone about my mom before and her antics. The endless lying in bed. The pining-away bullshit. At least, I thought it was bull, but she was the one who knew what was up. I chose to believe my dad, and that’s on me.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over that. Not your dad, but your mom. Each of them tried to pit you against the other.”
Bexley finally moved toward me and ran her hand down my arm. Her fingers ghosted over mine, and I grabbed hold of them before she could pull away. My grip might have been tighter than necessary, but the fear of her slipping out of my grasp attacked my heart.
“Look, I know he did us dirty, but back then, he held the keys to everything I wanted. Thought I wanted. Money, prestige, power. I’d been raised to think that’s what made life worth living, but I was wrong. And when he took you away from me, it was a loss like I’d never felt, a sacrifice I shouldn’t have had to make. Or you.”
A small tear formed in the corner of her eye. I waited for it to fall, but it floated on a precipice—like the current status of my life.
“I can’t go over all of it again. It hurt like hell then, and it still hurts now,” she said, sniffing back more tears. “I tried my best to move on, and that’s all I could do.”
“I know, but I hate that it happened. That I allowed it to happen at all. And to think I did this to you. My dad took you from me and me from you, and with the way he was, I thought you were better off. It’s no defense. Believe me.”
My heart and head pounded in synchronicity from the stress of dredging this all up. The fact I was here . . . with Bexley. It was all too much.
“I can’t. I said I can’t. Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she begged.
She moved back toward the couch and sat down, dropping her head in her hands. Her separation was an immediate shock to my system.
“I want a chance to make it right.” I knelt at her feet, my jeans cutting into the back of my knees, and I welcomed the pain. “Look at me. Please.”
This time, her tears fell heavy and hard. “Why now? I can’t believe this. What are you doing here? Now, of all times?”
“You can believe it. I’m here.” I brought a thumb to each cheek and wiped the wetness away.
“You’re probably going to go to prison. Then what? We’ll have our second chance with me visiting you behind bars? Oh, that’s so romantic, Aston.”
About Rachel
Rachel Blaufeld is a bestselling author of Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Coming-of-Age Romance, and Sports Romance. A recent poll of her readers described her as insightful, generous, articulate, and spunky. Originally a social worker, Rachel creates broken yet redeeming characters. She’s been known to turn up the angst like cranking up the heat in the dead of winter.
A devout coffee drinker and doughnut eater, Rachel spends way too many hours in local coffee shops, downing the aforementioned goodies while she plots her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end as lusciously as her treats.
As a side note, Blaufeld, also a long-time blogger and an advocate of woman-run anything, is fearless about sharing her opinion. She captured the ears of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog, BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and running a business, often at the same time. To her, work/life/family balance is an urban legend, but she does her best.
Rachel has also blogged for The Huffington Post and Modern Mom. Most recently, her insights can be found in USA TODAY, where she shares conversations at “In Bed with a Romance Author” and reading recommendations over at “Happy Ever After.”
Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two beagles. Her obsessions include running, coffee, basketball, icing-filled doughnuts, antiheroes, and mighty fine epilogues.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found courtside, tweeting about hoops as her son plays, or walking around the house wearing earplugs while her other son, the drummer, bangs away.
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