Also by Maria Hoagland
Still Time
Home for the Holidays
The ReModel Marriage
Kayaks & Kisses
Beauty and the Billionaire Beast
The Inventive Bride
The Practically Romantic Groom
The Combustible Engagement
Love for Keeps
Her App, a Match, and the Billionaire
Falling for Her Billionaire Best Friend
Santa Cam
The Matchmaker’s Billionaire
Bargaining with the Billionaire
Taste of Memory
While You Were Speaking
While You Were Speaking
Maria Hoagland
To my niblings—
Thanks for the memories full of fun & laughter. Reach out and make your dreams come true. Your happily ever after is out there.
Copyright © 2021 by Maria Hoagland
All rights reserved.
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.
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
Untitled
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Sneak Peek of Beehives and Broken Heroes by Ellie Thornton
Will Carter Get His Happily Ever After?
1
Harvest Ranch, VA
With a flimsy, disposable cup of liquid in each hand, Lucy Morrowitz stood on the ice-covered sidewalk and stared at the closed door to the radio station. The ice storm that had started late the afternoon before had slicked every road, tree branch, and blade of grass in a sheen of diamond-grade brilliance. If it weren’t so treacherous and just plain inconvenient, she might have thought it glorious in the early-morning sunshine. As it was, she stood precariously outside her work, wishing she could turn the ice-covered doorknob with her mind since both of her hands were full.
If only McGee was on his way into the Harvest Ranch Times office for his early-morning desk position. No such luck today. With this weather, even the paper’s temporary reporter, Ronnie Williams, wasn’t in. As of ten minutes ago when Lucy had stepped away from her desk on a Dr. Pepper/hot chocolate run, she and the morning show host Crew Keller were the only two in the media building—and he was too busy working to notice her approach.
From the front stoop, she heard Crew animatedly chatting with a caller. He could be anywhere from a few seconds to even several minutes away from being free to untether from the mic and headset to rescue her—if he even knew she was there. She throttled the temptation to kick the door to alert him; she didn’t want the vibration to be picked up by the microphone.
The rest of Main Street was completely empty of pedestrians. On a normal day, reporters Ronnie and McGee would clomp their way to the floor above the radio station to start their workday, coming in and out as they picked up leads and chased stories. McGee would normally have started at seven this morning, but considering the weather conditions, they were probably smart enough to work from home today. Not that Lucy blamed them. It was freezing.
Gingerly, she transferred the smaller cup to the crook of her arm and balanced it against her chest, instantly missing the warmth of it. She’d chosen to hold the heavier cup in her hand, but of course, that was the one with the ice cubes. She caught the door on her hip and eased herself through the opening before wedging her foot between the door and the frame to keep it from slamming shut behind her. Just as she was securing the hot chocolate cup back in hand, the door bounced hard against her foot. With the layer of ice underneath, she didn’t have a chance. At the pressure, her foot slipped, and before she could register falling, her knees and elbows cracked into the harsh concrete step.
“Oof!” She couldn’t keep the air from escaping as she landed, but she managed to subvert any cry of pain by squeezing her lips and closing her eyes.
When she opened them, she found Crew had turned around to check on her, eyes wide in question, but he talked to his caller as if nothing had happened, the sound muffled through the triple-paned window that shielded it from noise in the building’s entryway. For a moment, he looked concerned. As she started to grin, his eyes sparkled with the amusement only a longtime best friend could get away with.
Graceful, he mouthed with a playful twitch of a smile before speaking into the mic. “You’re right, Mrs. Lindgren, it’s important for each of us to do our duty to support this community—” One of his hands was positioned in front of the computer touchscreen, ready to start a commercial break. His other rested on his headphones to rip them off the second he had the chance. Apparently, Mrs. Lindgren had interrupted and continued to make whatever point she’d called to make today. Crew’s eyebrows pulled together in apology.
I’m okay, Lucy mouthed to reassure him. Other than being a little banged up and a lot embarrassed, she was fine. The initial shock of pain retreated, and she grunted under her breath while she assessed her condition. She’d lost about half of the Dr. Pepper, squeezing too hard in her effort to keep it upright. The cold brown liquid had surged through the hole in the lid, poured over her fingers, and run down the sleeve of her coat. Her right knee hurt worse than her left, but if she could figure out what to do with the drinks, she’d be able to stand.
Reaching as far forward as she could, she set both cups on the floor and pushed up. Now free of his technology, Crew rushed through the door between them and reached out to lift her by the elbow.
“Ow!” Pulling her arm from his grasp, she scrambled to her feet and grimaced a smile in his direction. “Thanks,” she said, trying to smooth over the fact that she’d pulled back when he was only trying to help. “Next time, remind me that even I don’t think Dr. Pepper is worth risking life and limb in a freak ice storm, especially when Presley gave me the wrong drink. Again.”
Crew studied her face for a moment, probably assessing if she was really okay, and then leaned down to retrieve the cups. He handed her the fountain drink and then took a sip from the cup she’d brought back for him. “Too bad we’re radio and not television—saving the drinks was a miraculous feat of physical accomplishment.”
She was already chuckling at her clumsiness, but his dry delivery almost made her snort. “You say that like you saw it.”
“Are you sure I didn’t?” he asked in mysterious seriousness.
He tried baiting her with a quirked eyebrow that sent most single women twittering into a pile of batting eyelashes. She’d known him too long to fall for it.
He nodded toward the front door. “Maybe we have a hidden camera.”
If there was a hidden camera, it would have been the print reporters’ doing.
She put one banged-up hand on her bruised hip and winced before leveling a glare at him. She could challenge him look for look. “Don’t forget—I’m the program director here, and therefore your boss.”
Crew scoffed, not buckling to her authority. “One of the reasons I never could date you.�
�� He shook his head and held the door for her to pass through. “You always did boss me around.”
A joke like that could have stung, depending on who said it, but coming from one of her best friends, she barely acknowledged it. They’d never had an interest in each other that way, which was why their friendship had lasted so long. “It’s a good thing you have Carly, then.”
“But do I really have her?” His skepticism hinted at how much he wanted their relationship to be real, but he made it into a joke. “I never know where I stand with her.” And yet it never seemed to bother him.
Which made Lucy’s heart go out to him even more. That was a difficult position to be in. “Trust me. I’ve seen how she looks at you.” Lucy nodded. “She’s into you. You are one lucky guy.”
“Lucky?” He either accepted Lucy’s reassurance or he was covering for his momentary lapse of confidence. To cover it, he plucked the front of his ’80s rock band T-shirt. “She’d be lucky to have me.”
“You may be lucky, but you’re almost out of time.” Lucy pointed to the computer screen to remind him to get back to work. “Traffic and weather.”
“Which actually go well together, for once.” He picked up his headphones and pushed them back onto his head.
“I wouldn’t call either of them ‘well.’” Yes, Lucy was minorly grumpy about the ice, but considering it had tried to kill her just now, she was totally justified. She stalked toward the employee lounge to grab paper towels to mop up the spilled Dr. Pepper.
“Of course not. That would be improper grammar.” He pushed up invisible glasses and gave a sour face worthy of a picky librarian.
After she cleaned up her spill, her plan was to get her own midday show prerecorded, but in the meantime, she enjoyed listening in. Crew’s ease behind the mic had always been an inspiration.
“Good morning, Harvest Ranch-ites! I’m Crew Keller. It’s twelve minutes ’til the hour and time for Cruising with Crew.” His characteristic cheerfulness could wake the grumpiest of teenagers but had the coolness factor to stay on their favorites side. “Believe it or not, we actually have a real traffic update for you today. I know, I know. I was rather surprised myself. Remember the sleet from yesterday afternoon? Well, while we were sleeping, an overnight storm blessed us with a good quarter inch of solid ice. For those of you still waking up and too groggy to remember the date, we’re a week ahead of any April Fool’s jokes, but far too late in the year for ice storms, in my humble opinion.” The scowl in his voice was carried by a hint of playfulness.
“Thank you for listening to 103.1, WHHR, the Heart of Harvest Ranch. Chances are, if you’re listening in right now, you have power, though I have to warn you not all of your neighbors do. From the looks of things down on Main Street, half of the town is still dark, so you might want to check if you have work before you bother to get out of bed just yet. It’s slick and dangerous out there, folks, as my talented yet graceless program manager demonstrated only a few minutes ago. By the way, if any of you captured her tumble in front of the station on video, I’ll pay good money for a copy . . .”
He smirked at her on the other side of the office before he continued. “Besides the slick roads and downed power lines, a good portion of our tree branches have fallen victim to the heavy ice. The sinister stuff may look beautiful sparkling in the early morning sunshine, but it’s nowhere near innocent. Let’s just hope it didn’t do any lasting damage to our crops—especially the tulips that are already up. And after the scare of them being trampled by the cattle . . .”He blew out a rush of air. “Spencer family, if you’re listening, we’d love to update Harvest Ranch on the state of the flowers and whether or not we’ll be having our tulip festival next week.” He sighed dramatically. “Be careful out there, folks!”
He clicked the button to start the next couple of songs and then turned back to her. “How bad is it, really?” Crew popped the lid off his hot chocolate and took a big gulp.
Apparently, her errand had taken long enough for it to cool significantly. In her defense, crossing the street had been so tricky, it was a triumph that she’d managed to get back in one piece. Well, almost. “It’s sad to see all the trees topped the way they have been. I hope they recover.”
“Eh.” Crew dismissed the concern. “You know this happens every few years. Senior year?” He interlaced his fingers behind his head, a grin stealing across his face. “I was such a fool. I’d been driving for a whole entire year and thought I was an expert.” He blew out a derisive breath. “I was being cautious—despite the fact that Carly accuses me of fiddling with the radio buttons—but my truck didn’t stop when I hit the brake.”
The protective way he pronounced Carly’s name caused Lucy to return his smile. Crew and Carly were good for each other. Even if he didn’t recognize the exact nature of their relationship, Lucy had no doubt he was head over heels for her. “You ran into her leaving the school lot, and the rest was history.” In the eight years since high school, the details of the story had gone fuzzy for Lucy, but she would bet they were perfectly crisp for him.
“She still hasn’t let me live it down.” His grin showed his appreciation for the fact.
Lucy chuckled. She would bet Crew would bring the incident up on air himself in that self-deprecating way of his. “But an ice storm this late?” Lucy cringed just thinking about what it would do to the town—what it would do to her—if the tulips didn’t survive.
“It’s happened.” Crew leaned forward and peered calmly out the window. “It’ll be fine. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” He lifted his chin confidently. “Which is why I am the authority.”
“Authority,” Lucy scoffed, because that’s what he’d been going for. “You mean because you’re the one with the microphone?” She raised her eyebrows at him. He could be smug, self-confident to the point of arrogant, but it was all part of his teasing veneer. “Only twenty percent of the town is listening to you.”
Crew adjusted the arm of the microphone importantly. “Pretty good ratings.”
They actually were. And she’d take some of the credit for that. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of complimenting him. “With the power out?” she threw out offhandedly. “You’re lucky anyone is listening to you.” She pointedly looked at his bright computer monitor, letting her eyes skim across the programs that kept track of what they were playing as well as the time. It took juice to power the show. “Since we’re running this show practically by magic.”
“Newfangled invention called a generator,” Crew quipped. “As for listeners, you pointed out that half of them have electricity, and believe it or not, the rest are either streaming on their phones or listening in their cars.”
Lucy gave him the stink eye. “Because they can’t look outside and see for themselves.”
Crew smirked before his expression grew serious. “Will the ice cause damage to the drive-in?”
Lucy’s brows pulled together. What brought that subject on? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d discussed the Starlight Drive-In Theater out loud. Granted, that conversation had to have been with Crew since he was her best sounding board, but it had been at least a year or two ago. Once she’d figured out how much capital it would take for her to save an old drive-in theater, bringing it up to date so she could actually show digital film, she’d had to force herself to abandon the dream.
Her legacy, the drive-in theater that had passed from her grandparents to her mom, to her dad, and then to her, was never to be more than the memories of her adolescence. The fall she’d gone away to college, her father had closed the gates for the last time. It had been out of business for eight years now, and every passing month the property sat unused and neglected, her dream of reviving it crumbled farther away. “I hope not. There’s so much that needs to be fixed already; I can’t possibly add any more expenses.”
Crew’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of reopening?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “That would be epic. You absolut
ely have to do it, Luce.”
Lucy dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk from him. Her own work in her office could wait a little longer. Crew would run with this, and she needed him to hear what she had to say. She caught his eye through the mass of electronics between them. “I’ve been thinking about it.” Nonstop since she’d started listening to business guru Carter Hughes’s podcasts a few months ago. “But I don’t have an extra seventy-five thousand dollars lying around to invest in a digital projector.”
“Ouch. Seventy-five grand? That’s steep.” Crew rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“That’s just for one screen. If I want to do both . . .” Overwhelmed, she blew it off. “Now you see why most of the drive-ins across the country have folded. It’s nearly impossible to get new movies in the old eight-millimeter format. I’d considered running only old movies, ones originally available in film, but those are so hard to come by anymore. Then there’s the cost of refurbishing the screens, the concession stand, and upgrading the sound system . . .” In her current financial state, saving the drive-in theater would take a miracle. The best thing she could hope for was to find a buyer to take it off her hands. Except how could she do that that? Letting go of her last tie to her parents would break her heart.
Crew lifted one corner of his mouth mischievously. She knew that look. It was a warning that he was about to bring up something either she or the station’s owner might object to. Her stomach clenched, but before she could probe into the upcoming subject, Crew turned on the mic and took over.
While You Were Speaking: Spring Flings and Engagement Rings Page 1