Read, Write, Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons, Book 5) Contemporary Romance

by Melissa Foster

  Privacy? Kurt could think of a hundred things to do when a woman was in that position—and he’d never once thought about doing them on his deck. Until now. The thought of Leanna naked in the chair aroused him. He brushed the sand Pepper had so kindly left behind from his chair and sat down before she could notice. Not that she seemed to notice much. She made herself right at home.

  He eyed the basket to keep his mind off of the way a bead of sweat was heading south between her breasts.

  “Thanks for the basket, but you didn’t have to bring me anything.” He grabbed a jar of jam and read the label. “Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats?” Luscious Leanna? Holy hell, he was in big trouble.

  She sat up and leaned toward him. “I wanted to. You were nice enough to go into the ocean in the middle of a rainstorm and save me and Pepper. Now I know you were probably writing some crazy thriller, so that means I really interrupted you.”

  As opposed to fake interrupted me? He had to work hard to pull himself from his writer’s mind-set. She’d crinkled her nose as she’d said really, and she was so damn cute he couldn’t do more than watch as she stood and leaned over the railing. He noticed jam handprints across the back pockets of her shorts. Kurt wished they’d been from his hands. She threw her hands up in the air and exhaled loudly, before turning back to him with that glorious smile again.

  “You’re so lucky. I mean, this is what you do. You write with the ocean in your backyard.” She glanced into the French doors and winced. “I hope your floors survived us.”

  She touched his shoulder as she flitted past and sat down on another chair. He liked that warm touch, and she’d done it with a sense of familiarity. Weird. He’d never met anyone who was so comfortable in her own skin. Pepper licked the perspiration from Leanna’s legs. Kurt was a little jealous of the pesty little dog. He smiled despite the interruption to his writing—and despite wondering if that jam on her butt was still wet and would ruin his chair.

  “They survived just fine.” But I’m not sure I will. She stirred all sorts of desires in Kurt that he usually kept under wraps—and drew upon only when his projects were sufficiently complete or when he was ahead of schedule and could spare a few hours to burn off steam. His stomach was doing something strange and unfamiliar, too. What is that? A flutter? Pang? Ache? He ran through a plethora of words that might or might not be accurate.

  “What are you thinking about?” Leanna asked.

  “What?”

  “Your eyebrows are all pinched together, and you were staring at the table like you were deep in thought.” She looked at his computer. “Oh gosh. I interrupted you. I’m so sorry.” She rose to her feet.

  Pepper crawled under Kurt’s chair and whined.

  He needed to get back to writing. He should just let her go, thank her for the jams and bid her farewell so she could go flit about on some other guy’s deck. Damn if his hand didn’t reach out and land on top of hers.

  “Stay.” The word came without thought, surprising him as much as her.

  Her eyes widened. “Stay?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to write, but you can relax in the sun if you’d like, or take a walk on the beach.”

  She looked around. “You don’t mind?”

  He shrugged, knowing he was probably making a huge mistake, but something in his crazy gut wanted her around, and he’d never felt that way before. What was an hour or two? She’d get bored and move on, and he would have enjoyed the view of her.

  “Sure.” He pulled the laptop closer to him and opened it. “There’s a beach blanket and towels in the linen closet by the laundry room.”

  She crinkled her nose and smiled again. Pepper crept out from under his chair and began pawing at his lap.

  Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “No.”

  Pepper lay back down.

  “Okay, but if we drive you crazy, just say the word and we’ll leave.” She reached for the door handle. “Are you sure? Actually, I have a towel and blanket in my van. I can get it.”

  Kurt shook his head and went inside, where he retrieved a blanket and a towel and filled a thermos with ice water. When he returned, Leanna was standing in the center of the deck in a charcoal-gray string bikini, struggling to put her hair up in a ponytail.

  Kurt stopped cold. Every sexy curve was on display, from her rounded hips to her full breasts, which were pushed together by barely there swatches of dark material. Two thin lines of fabric ran from her hips to another tiny triangle of gray covering her promised land. He swallowed hard, trying to regain control of his limbs. She wasn’t a rail-thin model; nor was she overly plump. Beneath the tank tops and cutoffs, Leanna Bray was one hundred percent hot, sexy woman, and she stole any chance Kurt had at rational thought.

  After securing her hair, she took the towel from his hands. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. I was going to take Pepper to the water later, so this saves us time.” She traced a finger over the tattoo on his chest. “I never would have guessed you to be a tattoo guy.”

  It was all he could do to shift his eyes from her rounded breasts to her finger working its way across his bare chest.

  “And the one on your arm?” She touched that one, too, and he could tell by the unchanged inflection of her voice that she wasn’t trying to be sexy or flirtatious. She was just being Leanna—curious, sweet.

  And he was getting hard. He cleared his throat and stepped away.

  “Thanks. They were a…” Still in shock over everything about Leanna, he was at a loss for words. He was used to being in control, and Leanna was stealing that from him one hot breath at a time.

  She cocked her head and looked up at him.

  “A whim,” he managed. Whim? He’d never done a thing in his life based on a whim.

  She smiled. “Really? You don’t strike me as a whim guy. Hm.” She turned and tossed the blanket and towel over her shoulder. “I guess I’ll hit the beach, then. Come on, Pep.” She headed for the beach with a bounce in her step.

  Kurt let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. He watched her spread out the towel and lie down on her back, her hands tapping to some silent beat, her lips slightly parted, and Pepper running circles around her. She was so not what he needed. What am I doing? How was he supposed to think of killing and darkness with that beautiful, touchy-feely, all-too-comfortable-and-happy woman a few feet away?

  He nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang. He needed the distraction.

  “Hi, Jackie,” he answered. Jackie Tolson had been his literary agent for six years. She was five feet tall on a good day, weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet, with stick-straight black hair cut severely above her shoulders, and she was as aggressive as a trapped cobra.

  “Kurt. How’s life at the Cape?”

  He pictured her leaning back in her pristine Manhattan office furnished top to bottom in leather, mahogany, and white, wearing her Manolo Blahnik strappy heels and designer suit, a pen sticking out between her perfect teeth and her perfectly applied makeup softening her sharp features. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He liked Jackie, and he loved her meticulous nature and her bulldog determination. Professionally, they were a great match.

  “The Cape is…” He glanced down at the beach, where Leanna was on her hands and knees, rolling around with Pepper in the sand. “Interesting.”

  “Interesting as in inspiring, or interesting as in we’re going to be late with our submission?”

  He watched Leanna chase Pepper into the water. “Have I ever missed a deadline?”

  “No, and I’m just waiting for the day you do. I’m not sure if I’ll celebrate that you finally have a life or I’ll hate you for making us look bad.”

  “If I ever miss a deadline I think you’ll be second in line to shoot me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll shoot yourself first. I’ve heard it from the best of them. Everyone misses a deadline at some point. Did you hear from Layton?”

  Layton was Kurt’s editor at his publishi
ng house, Partner Press. “Yes. He’s ready and waiting, and we’ll have revisions back sixty days after he receives the manuscript.”

  “Good. And I know timely revisions are a piece of cake for you. I wish you could teach your dedication and work habits to the rest of my clients.”

  Leanna turned and waved.

  “Mm-hmm.” God, she’s sexy. He lifted his hand in a semi wave.

  “Kurt?”

  He wanted to run his hands over every inch of Leanna’s glistening skin and hear her soft voice calling out his name. “Hm?”

  “You sound distracted. Is something going on with your family?”

  “Family? Uh, yeah. Jack’s getting married at the end of the summer, but everyone’s good. Why?”

  “I can’t think of anything else that would distract you. What are you doing right this second?”

  She knew him too well. “Going inside to grab some grapes.” Which he did. “Now I’m sitting back down at my computer to nail this scene.”

  “Fair enough. What were you doing?”

  “Watching a hot chick run through the ocean.”

  “Yeah, right.” She laughed. “Okay. Let me know if you run into any issues.”

  He ended the call, bothered by her disbelief of him watching Leanna. Was he that boring? It had been weeks since he’d been out on a real date. Before he came to the Cape, his sister, Siena, had set him up with an attractive friend of hers. He’d spent the whole night revising a chapter in his head. Kurt wasn’t a dater. He didn’t enjoy small talk, and he had yet to find a woman he preferred over writing. Hell, he had yet to find anything he preferred over being in front of his keyboard and creating heart-pumping literature. Sure, there were women in his life who were available when he had the urge to spend a few hours in the arms of a soft, willing woman, but those nights were on his terms and his schedule. Like everything in Kurt’s life, he believed to do it well, he had to be determined and focused and give it his all. He’d much rather focus on writing.

  He sat down at his computer and spent the next two hours trying to concentrate on something other than thoughts of Leanna. He’d just gotten himself centered when Pepper bounded onto the deck, barking.

  He slid him a stare. “Hush.”

  Pepper whined, then flopped on Kurt’s feet. Kurt kicked him off and Pepper crept right back. Christ.

  Leanna came up the deck with her hair a tangled mess, sandy from hip to toe, and dragging the sandy blanket and towel behind her.

  “That was so much fun. You should have come. How can you sit there and not want to go in the water?” She ran her fingers through her tangles.

  How can you not realize how goddamn sexy you are? “Salt water makes my skin sticky.”

  She laughed and flopped into the chair beside him, leaving a sandy path in her wake. When she leaned forward and touched his thigh, he felt a sear of heat blaze a path to his groin. Again. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the droplets of water slipping down her cleavage if his life depended on it.

  “It’s supposed to. It’s salt water,” she said as if he were being silly. She leaned back and put one foot on his lap.

  He stared at the tan, pretty appendage.

  “How’d the writing go? Did you kill someone off?”

  “Not yet.” He picked up her foot and held it away from his lap; then he snagged the towel from her lap and gently wiped the sand from her foot, and her ankle, and her knee. Sand piled up beneath her.

  She popped a grape into her mouth and lifted her brows. “You planning on removing all the sand from me? Because I think I have some in my butt crack, too.”

  He froze.

  She laughed. “I’m kidding. Thank you for wiping me off. I guess you don’t like dirt too much, huh?”

  He handed her the towel and became hyperfocused on her foot resting too close to his crotch. “I like things to be neat, I guess. But I’m not a neat freak.”

  “Uh-huh.” She laughed.

  “Why is that funny?” He grabbed a handful of grapes and popped one in his mouth to distract himself from her inviting, sandy thigh.

  “Because you are a total neat freak. I think it’s cute.” She brushed the sand from her thighs.

  He pressed his lips together. “Cute? I’m anything but cute. And I’m not a neat freak.”

  She lowered her foot from his lap and leaned in close again. “Let’s see how long you can go without sweeping the sand from the deck.”

  She smelled sweet and salty, and Kurt couldn’t help but wonder if she might taste that way, too.

  “You, luscious—” Shit. How did I let that slip? “Leanna, you don’t even know me.” But for some strange reason, I want you to.

  They rose at the same time and bumped chests. She grabbed his arm to keep from falling over. Her warm, sun-kissed skin felt so damn good against him that he didn’t back away. Couldn’t back away. His hands found her hips, the ridge of her bikini bottom barely noticeable beneath his palms. The way she looked up at him, eyes full of wonder—and surprise—caught him off guard.

  “Sorry.” He dropped his hands and stepped back.

  She closed the gap between them and dropped her eyes to his chest, which was rising and falling with each embarrassingly heavy breath.

  “So, big thriller writer, you’re not used to having a mouthy girl around, are you?”

  “I have a mouthy sister.” Jesus. Sister? At a time like this? She had him too befuddled to think straight.

  “Does she make you breathe like this?” She pressed her hands to his chest again.

  The little voices in his head told him to walk away. Get writing. Run like hell. But his hands didn’t listen as they found her hips again and pulled her against him so she could feel what she was doing to him. The glint in her eyes, the way she slowly and sensually licked her lips, and the way her fingers slid down his chest told him that she had to know.

  “No one makes me breathe like that,” he admitted.

  Pepper barked at them, and this time Kurt didn’t give him a harsh stare or a command for quiet. Kurt lowered his mouth toward Leanna’s lips as she pushed away from him.

  “I’d worry if your sister made you breathe like that,” she said as if she had no idea that she’d just driven him out of his mind or that he’d been about to kiss her. She picked up the towel and draped it over her shoulder. “I’ll help you clean up.”

  He couldn’t move. Besides the fact that he was hard as a rock, he could barely breathe. She went inside, and he heard her opening and closing doors. He tried to force his legs to function and cringed thinking about the sand trail she was leaving on his floors. She returned a few minutes later with a broom and a dustpan.

  “Finally found them hanging up behind the laundry room door. You are so organized.” She stood on her tiptoes and swept the broom back and forth fast and undirected, sending sand all over the deck. “If you didn’t kill someone, what did you write?” Sweep, sweep. Sand flew into the air and landed on his chair.

  He took the broom from her hands and began sweeping to keep from taking her in his arms and kissing that never-quiet mouth of hers.

  “My villain was making his way to the victim, mentally obsessing over her.” Like me at this very moment.

  “Look how pretty the sky is over there.” Leanna pointed over the ocean. “I love the way it goes all purply pink.”

  All purply pink. He smiled. “It’s pretty, all right.” He noticed that while she sometimes spoke simply, her eyes held knowledge. She didn’t come across as a ditzy brunette. Cute, yes. Ditzy? No way. Smart and happy, though simple, were perfect words to describe Leanna.

  She knelt and held the dustpan while he swept the sandy mess into it. When she stood, she turned and knocked into the table, dumping the sand all over his chair and the deck again. “I’m such a klutz. I’m sorry.” She reached for the broom and Kurt reached for her.

  Okay, maybe klutzy, but not ditzy—and adorably attractive.

  They were chest to chest again, and he wanted to f
eel her lips against his more than he wanted to write his next chapter, but he didn’t need distractions. He was behind on his word count, and he had a deadline looming. He reluctantly guided her into a chair and swept the mess off the deck, buying himself time to figure out what the hell he should do. When he was done, he leaned against the table, crossed his arms, and looked at Leanna.

  She drew her feet up on the chair, knees to chest, and smiled up at him. She was always smiling. “Sorry.”

  Pepper barked at him again, and he glared at the dog. “Hush.”

  Pepper plopped onto his butt, and Kurt wished he could command himself to do the right thing as easily.

  “I need to write.”

  “I know. I really just came to bring you the basket.” Worry flashed in her eyes.

  He picked up the basket and rifled through it. There were two jars of jam, a loaf of homemade bread, and dried flowers.

  “Did you make all of this?”

  “Mm-hm.” She traced her kneecap with her index finger.

  He’d noticed that she did that often and wondered if she was nervous or bored. He couldn’t be sure, but it endeared her to him even more.

  “That was really sweet. You’re really sweet, Leanna.” And sexy and wickedly distracting.

  She pushed to her feet and stood between his legs. “I’m nice, but I’m not sweet.”

  Leanna’s lips were a breath away, close enough that an inch would bring them together, but the determined tone of her voice and the feisty look in her beautiful eyes told Kurt that she was stating a fact. Defending her strength. And that made him want her even more.

  “And I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She traced his tattoo again. “Go write. I’m really glad you let me stay. I had fun.”

  “You did?” Kurt considered himself anything but fun.

  “Are you kidding? Playing with Pepper on the beach and then having the added bonus of seeing you all flustered and shirtless…and sexy? Priceless.” She stepped back. “Do you want me to take the towel and blanket inside?”

  He was still hung up on shirtless and sexy. No, but I’d like to take you inside.

  “I’ve got it. Thanks. And thanks for the basket.”