Let it Show (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies Book 2)

by Tawna Fenske

  About Let it Show

  A Juniper Ridge romantic comedy

  How the hell did I end up on TV faking like I’m not falling for the world’s sexiest shrink?

  Yeah, I agreed to live at an old cult compound and let cameras tail me around, but a plotline about a grumpy single dad finding love? Big nope. All I want is a brewery to run and a fresh start with my daughter. Just toss me the keys, keep the psych sessions short, and remind me again why I can’t fall for Dr. Mari Judson.

  At least I’m not alone. She’s as thirsty as I am for what’s brewing between us, but Mari runs scared when we get close. Something’s stopping her, and a woman with secrets is a recipe for heartache. Trust me, I know.

  Blame her sexy brain, her quirky parrot, or the way my kid adores her, but I can’t quit chasing Mari. It’s bound to blow up like a can of Kolsch tossed down the stairs, so why can’t we stay apart?

  And why do I think the good doc is hiding something huge?

  Let it Show

  Tawna Fenske

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2021 Tawna Fenske

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  www.tawnafenske.com

  Cover design by Helen Williams of All Booked Out

  Created with Vellum

  Also in the Juniper Ridge romantic comedy series

  Show Time

  Let It Show

  Show Down (coming in 2021!)

  Just for Show (coming soon!)

  Show and Tell (coming soon!)

  Show of Hands (coming soon!)

  You might also dig my Ponderosa Resort rom-com series. That’s where you’ll get your first glimpse of characters from Juniper Ridge, including Val and Vanessa in Mancandy Crush and Dean and Gabe in Snowbound Squeeze. Check them out here:

  Studmuffin Santa

  Chef Sugarlips

  Sergeant Sexypants

  Hottie Lumberjack

  Stiff Suit

  Mancandy Crush (novella)

  Captain Dreamboat

  Snowbound Squeeze (novella)

  Dr. Hot Stuff

  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

  Epilogue

  15. Your exclusive peek at Hottie Lumberjack

  16. Your exclusive sneak peek at Show Down

  Don’t Miss Out!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Tawna Fenske

  For the psychologists:

  Adam, Joel, and Susan in particular for your help with the details of this book.

  But also, for every mental health professional providing compassionate listening, groundbreaking research, gentle guidance, and the occasional bonk upside the head.

  Thank you for making the world a better place.

  Chapter 1

  CONFESSIONAL 753

  Judson, Lauren (Producer: Juniper Ridge)

  You want me to share one of my worst memories? Nice, Gabe. How about you punch me in the tits while you’re at it? Oh, stop looking like that. I’m a woman. I have tits, okay? Being your sister doesn’t negate that biological fact. If you want to get technical, you’ve got three sisters who all happen to have—

  Stalling?

  I don’t know what you mean.

  Prologue

  TWO YEARS AGO

  I sip from a flute of Veuve Clicquot, careful not to smudge my lipstick. It’s Friday night at Evolution, the most exclusive club in West Hollywood, and tonight we’ve got a VIP suite.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  My hot-as-hell boyfriend nuzzles the words against my neck, and I lean in to soak up his heat. Then I draw back to watch those electric cocoa eyes skim my body. I bought this strapless Oscar de la Renta in lush velvet knowing he’d love it. The heat in his gaze tells me I wasn’t wrong.

  I seldom am. If tonight goes how I’m thinking, Nick’s about to swap the boyfriend title for fiancé.

  “Hey, stranger.” God, he looks good. I skim my fingertips over his clean-shaven jaw. “Having fun?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He dips his palm into the curve of my waist, and I fight the urge to drag him into the nearest coat closet. “I love you in red,” he murmurs.

  “Is that so?” I know this, of course. I know most things about Nick, since tonight marks one year since our first date. “Glad you like it.”

  “Mmm.” He kisses my neck again and I let my palms take a lovely trip from his shoulders to his forearms, tracing muscles built by years of slinging tools on job sites. These days, he spends more time bossing other people with tools, but the fact remains—Nick Armbrust knows his way around a tool chest.

  And my chest, but I’m getting distracted.

  “Alexis is looking for you,” he says, and it takes me a sec to go from fuck-me-against-the-wall, to let’s-talk-about-your-sister.

  “She caught me in the ladies’ room a minute ago.” I love Nick’s sister, so shifting gears is easy. “She looks amazing.”

  Nick grins. “Mama’s pestered her for years to leave her hair natural. She wasn’t so sure about going full afro.”

  “It looks great.”

  “She said she had something for you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” I don’t tell him that something was a pair of Farrah Rochon paperbacks. Alexis and I agree it’s best to let her brother think we’ve spent the past year swapping stock tips or shoes instead of romance novels. “Is she pregnant again?”

  “What?” Nick squints at the corner table where Alexis is feeding a bite of crostini to her hottie husband. “Why would you think that?”

  “Watch.” On cue, Abe touches his wife’s belly beneath the table. The two share a private smile that makes my ovaries ache. “See?”

  “Huh.” Nick dots a kiss behind my ear. “We should put in our order for another niece.”

  “Or nephew.” Delight ripples through me at his slip of the tongue. We. A good indication I’m right about tonight’s plans.

  “I love seeing our families together.” His gaze moves past his sister to the tight knot of Judson offspring in the corner. Dean, Cooper, Lana—all five of my brothers and sisters are here somewhere.

  A few feet away, my parents huddle in conversation with Nick’s mom and dad. My soon-to-be-in-laws? I hate to be presumptuous, but all signs are there. “I can’t believe you managed to get everyone in one place.”

  Nick laughs warm and low. “There’s something to be said for just asking for what you want.”

  I shiver, recognizing the quote he gave Business Week last month about the success of his construction firm. Tonight, I hear it with fresh ears.

  If Nick’s about to ask me something, the answer is an unequivocal yes.

  His dad says something that makes my mom laugh, and I catch myself smiling. Our parents met before we did, since Angela and Darius Armbrust are prominent entertainment lawyers, and my parents are—well, Laurence and Shirleen Judson. Enough said.

  Though not enough has been said about why Nic
k summoned us here this evening. I’ve asked him for weeks, but all he’ll say is that it’s a surprise. That he had some things to line up before sharing his plans with anyone.

  I sip from my champagne flute and order myself to keep my voice casual. “You went all out for this soiree.”

  “It’s a big occasion.” He winks and there go the damn butterflies in my stomach.

  I know I should play it cool. That’s what I’m known for, after all. Entertainment Weekly dubbed me the “She Shark,” a reference to my cool poise on set. What the hell does that mean, anyway? They’d never write that about a male producer.

  But it’s true I’m cool under pressure. Always have been, though maybe not where Nick’s concerned. One look at him and my kneecaps melt like butter.

  “I heard what you did for Lana.” Nick brushes my hair back from my face. “Pretty badass.”

  I frown. “What did you hear?”

  “That you kneed that actor in the balls for grabbing her ass at a fundraiser.”

  Goddammit. Hollywood is getting too small.

  “Repeat that to anyone, and you’ll get the same.” I keep enough sweetness in my voice so he knows I’m teasing, but he must see steel in my eyes because he inches back a little. “Seriously, Nick—don’t repeat that.”

  “It’s true, though.”

  He didn’t put a question mark at the end, so I don’t bother answering. “No one fucks with my family.”

  Nick’s chest rumbles as he chuckles. “And I dig that about you, girl.”

  “Thanks.” I think. Speaking of family— “I’m going to go say hi to Mari, okay?”

  Nick spots her in the corner and waves. “She just getting here?”

  “She came straight from taping a demo for Shrink to the Stars. Want to come find out how it went?”

  He kisses me again before releasing my hand. “You go ahead. There’s something I need to do.”

  The way his fingers just skimmed the breast pocket of his suit has me speculating about that something. Is my ring in there?

  Flashing one last smile, I stride toward my middle sister, who’s been waylaid by our youngest. Mari looks sophisticated in off-the-shoulder Chanel, while Lana glows in green Dolce & Gabbana. I’m so proud of my sisters, for how they’re forging their own paths, stepping out of our parents’ shadows, becoming strong, confident—

  “Lauren, sweetheart.” Fingers clamp my arm, and Shirleen Judson—aka sex siren of seventies cinema, aka my mother—tugs me to stand beside her. “Lovely party.”

  I frown at her empty seat. “Weren’t you just sitting over there?”

  “I wanted to speak with you.” She smiles and waves at someone en route to the bar. A director, I think? The faces blend together these days.

  My mother lowers her voice. “Things seem to be going well with Nick.”

  “I suppose so.” It’s not the gushing response she’s probing for, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeming too eager. Too needy.

  “Don’t be coy, Lauren.” She tucks a swatch of hair behind my ear, then flutters her fingers at someone strolling through the side door. “There’s a reason you work behind the cameras. You’re not that good an actress.”

  The words don’t sting because I won’t let them. Also, I never wanted to be an actress. I’ve made a name for myself as a producer, so Shirleen Judson can suck it.

  Not that I’d say that out loud. “Was there something you wanted?”

  She mother sighs. “You’ve got an attractive man with a promising career and a good family. You’re running out of time to close the deal.”

  This conversation again. “Marriage isn’t the crowning achievement it was in your day.” A low blow, but she asked for it. “I’ve got my own promising career. Maybe I don’t care about marriage.”

  “Sweetheart.” She rubs my shoulder, a comfort I’m annoyed to find myself craving. “Is that why you and Lana looked at wedding gowns last week?”

  I blink. “How did you—”

  “Mothers know everything, dear.” She squeezes my shoulder, then drops her hand with a smile. “I’m proud of you, darling. Now go close the deal.”

  She walks away while I’m still processing her words. Is she proud of me for dating the man Business Week called “Hollywood’s most up-and-coming entrepreneur,” or for my own career achievements?

  My Oscar nod last year solidified my standing as part of Judson royalty, and God knows my mother had her own Hollywood career. It’s not like she wants me barefoot and chained to a stove.

  But deep down, I know I won’t earn her awe until I’ve achieved the great trifecta. Career, beauty, and the cover of People magazine’s wedding issue, not necessarily in that order.

  Squaring my shoulders, I pivot and march toward my sisters. Mari turns and meets my eye, and I’m opening my mouth to call to her when a mic squeal slices through party chatter.

  “Heeeyyy, everyone! Thanks for being here.” Nick’s voice is smooth as melted chocolate, and I turn as my heart kicks to a quick canter. He’s standing on a raised platform, and when he catches my eye, he winks. “Part of why we’re here tonight is to celebrate the opening of Armbrust Anaheim, so thank you all for making it happen.”

  I clap along with everyone, heart in a full gallop now. His modesty is one thing I admire about him, and I love that he makes it sound like the new Armbrust Resort was a joint effort.

  But I know he turned down his parents’ offer of seed money. He designed all those pretty little cabins himself, slinging a hammer right alongside his crew. He did it on his own, and I’m damn proud of him.

  My husband.

  I know I said I don’t care about marriage, and I don’t. But seeing him up there, dark skin golden under the lights, I can’t stop picturing our future.

  Nick clears his throat and continues. “I’d like to thank my parents, Angela and Darius Armbrust, for not disowning me when I quit law school to work construction.”

  A ripple of laughter moves through the room, but I keep my eyes on Nick. On the flicker of anxious pride in his eyes. I wonder if anyone else sees it.

  “I’d also like to thank Lauren Judson.” He turns to me and smiles. “Girl, you’ve been my rock through all of this. I can’t thank you enough.”

  More applause, and I demur like I learned to do before I could walk. My brain snags on the word “rock,” curious if it’s a clue.

  “Speaking of rocks,” he continues, and my breath catches in my throat. “I have an important announcement. Well, an announcement and a special request.”

  Oh my God.

  This is happening. It’s really happening.

  Tears needle my eyelids, but I blink them back. With the sharp points of my manicure, I pinch the skin between my thumb and pointer finger the way I learned at sixteen.

  “Do this when you think you might cry,” my mother instructed on the eve of my first major awards ceremony. “The pain will distract you.”

  But nothing distracts me from the gleam in Nick’s eye, the shape of him in that well-tailored suit, the fullness of lips I’ve kissed a thousand times as he lifts the mic again.

  “Let me back up a little bit,” he continues, voice cracking a little. He laughs and clears his throat, glancing at the bright light shining down on him. “Wow, this is harder than I thought. I’m not used to being in the spotlight.”

  Should I help him out? I grew up in the spotlight, so public speaking is like breathing. I edge closer to the platform, my breath coming quicker now.

  “Let me try this again.” He shifts the mic to his other hand and smiles at me before lifting his gaze to the crowd. “Ten months ago on a trip to Colorado, I went to see of my favorite performers.”

  Fondness squeezes my heart. We’d been dating two months when Nick invited me on a weekend getaway. “We’ll see Gary Clark Jr. at Red Rocks Amphitheatre and stay at this cool little bed and breakfast.” He smiled almost shyly, pulling me closer. “I know it’s not the luxury digs you’re used to, but—” />
  “It sounds amazing,” I’d interrupted, stretching up to kiss him. “Just like you.”

  And he is. This public event, the retelling of our first weekend getaway—all of this is the proposal of my dreams, if I were the kind of woman to dream of such things.

  Which I’m not.

  But I’m just saying—

  “—the trees, the sky, the entire landscape,” Nick’s saying, and I realize I’ve missed some of what he’s just said. “And I found myself thinking there’s only one thing that could make this better.”

  He meets my eyes again and I hold my breath. This is it.

  “So what I’m wondering,” Nick says, tugging the collar of his shirt. “What I’m planning, that is—”

  “Yes!”

  Oh, God.

  That was me, wasn’t it?

  I glance around, and yep. Everyone’s staring.

  But I don’t care because the man of my dreams is proposing, and the least I can do is make it easier on him. Nick cocks his head, smiling with a question in his eyes.

  And I have the answer.

  I take another step forward and hold out my hand. My left hand, in case he wants to slip the ring on. Nick looks at me uncertainly and pulls the mic closer. “Hold on just a second, babe.” He smiles. “Almost done.”

  Right. Of course, he wants to get the words out. I glance at the edge of the platform and see my brother, Gabe, with his camera rolling. The upside of growing up in show biz is that there’s always someone to capture life’s major moments.

  Nick clears his throat again, so I put my hand down and command myself to be patient.