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

by Melissa Foster

  She swatted the air. “Pfft. Have fun writing, but you should really get out sometime. There’s a world of temptation out there that you might enjoy. I mean, sand between your toes? Come on.”

  “I walk on the beach every night, and I enjoy plenty of temptations.” He walked her to her van with Pepper at their heels, thinking about the temptation that was less than a foot away.

  She narrowed her gaze. “Somehow I think your idea of temptation and mine are a little different.”

  Which is exactly why you have to leave. He eyed her colorful van. “Nice wheels.”

  “My dad refurbished it for me when I graduated from college, and I can’t imagine driving anything but my happy mobile.”

  “Happy mobile?”

  “Yeah.” She opened the door and Pepper jumped in; then she climbed into the driver’s seat. “I mean, look at the thing. Can you really look at it and not smile?”

  He couldn’t look at her without smiling. “No, I guess I can’t.”

  Chapter Four

  SEASIDE WAS A small community of one-, two-, and three-bedroom cottages, most of which had been owned by the same families for decades. Leanna’s grandfather had purchased their cottage before she was born. Her family had spent a few weeks each summer at the cottage, and during their visits, her parents kept them on the go. Between afternoons at the beach, walking through quaint nearby towns, and evening family-oriented concerts, it left little downtime, and the downtime they’d enjoyed had been spent at Seaside. She was glad for the friendships she’d fostered in the community and even more pleased that they’d lasted this long. She couldn’t imagine her summers without her Seaside friends.

  Leanna was cooking hamburgers on the grill when she heard Bella talking with their friend Amy Maples in the area behind her cottage. A minute later Bella peered over the gate.

  “Hey, chicky. Is Mr. Sexy here?”

  Leanna laughed. “No. Mr. Sexy isn’t here.”

  Bella and Amy joined her on the deck in their typical summer outfits, sundresses worn over their bathing suits. Amy had straight, short blond hair and was about as big around as a pencil, with expressive green eyes and a big heart. Pepper ran circles around them, barking at Amy, his favorite female human. Leanna sometimes wondered if Pepper was more attached to Amy than to her. Amy crouched, and Pepper rolled onto his back so Amy could rub his belly.

  “How’s my favorite boy?” she crooned. “Did you get to see Mr. Sexy, too? Am I the only one who didn’t get to meet the handsome writer?”

  “Um, no.” Jenna Ward lived in the cottage next to Bella, and she’d inherited her one-bedroom cottage from her mother. She walked through the front gate wearing a one-piece bathing suit and a colorful sarong wrapped around her waist. She wore her pin-straight dark hair in a short blunt cut just below her ears, and she had a wide smile on her face. She threw an arm around Leanna and kissed her cheek. “How are you, sugar?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Feeling a little left out. Who’s Mr. Sexy? And what’s up with the ass-baring sundress? You look cute as shit, but unless you have a date, you’re wasting it on us.”

  Leanna glanced over her shoulder and looked down. “Can you really see my butt?”

  “Just the curve of it,” Amy said. “Who cares? It’s just us. Hey, can I have a burger?”

  Leanna put one hand on her hip. “How many do you see on my grill?”

  “Four,” Bella answered as she went inside Leanna’s cottage.

  “Would I ever leave you girls hanging?”

  “Never.” Bella came back out with a plate and handed it to Leanna. “I’ll get the lettuce and tomato from my place.”

  “I’ve got the buns,” Amy said as she stepped from the deck and headed toward her cottage.

  “I think Leanna has those covered.” Jenna smacked Leanna’s butt. “Mr. Sexy. Spill it.”

  “They’re overreacting.” Just the thought of Kurt sent a little thrill through her, and when she thought of the way his eyes darkened and his arousal pressed against her center as he almost kissed her, her entire body shuddered. God, how she’d wanted that kiss. She could almost taste it. “I met Kurt Remington, and I guess he’s a big-time thriller writer.”

  “No way.” Jenna’s baby blues widened. “You met him? Like in person?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Holy crap. I love his books. What’s he like? Is he as cute as his pictures? He seems kind of reclusive from the interviews I’ve read. The way he answered their questions, it seems like he never leaves his house—except he did mention his family a lot. Oh, and a house on the Cape. Oh my God. He’s here writing! That’s what he said in the interview, that in the summers he comes to the Cape to write.” Jenna tucked her straight dark hair behind her ear and closed her eyes for a second. “I wouldn’t mind being reclusive with him.”

  “Yeah, me either. That’s the problem.” Leanna sighed.

  “What’s the problem?” Bella took the spatula from Leanna’s hand and flipped the burgers.

  “Leanna wants to write a new chapter in Mr. Sexy’s book.” Jenna took a tomato from Bella’s plate, and Bella smacked her hand.

  Amy returned with a plate of buns. “A dirty chapter?”

  “Oh! I almost forgot to show you!” Jenna reached into the deep cleavage between her enormous bosoms and pulled out a perfect, white oval rock. “Cool, right?”

  Leanna, Amy, and Bella exchanged an eye roll.

  “What? Look at it.” Jenna ran her hands over the smooth stone. She collected rocks like other people collected antiques or figurines. She refused to carry buckets while she trolled the beaches for rocks, and she often came back with her cleavage overflowing and tiny rocks tucked in between her cheek and her teeth. She stuck out her lower lip and stroked the rock. “Well, I like it. At least I’m not hitting the yard sales this summer and bringing home all kinds of stuff that you guys hate.” Jenna was an elementary school art teacher, and her direct personality and hearty laugh made her seem much taller than her almost five-foot stature. She summered at the Cape each year in her one-bedroom cottage, and she lived on a shoestring budget, but last year she’d gone to a string of yard sales and brought home some of the gaudiest yard decorations they’d ever seen. The girls had formed an intervention and stolen every one of them one night while she was asleep, and in their place, they’d left little notes that read, We love you, but…stick to rocks, please!

  Leanna leaned closer to her. “Let’s not revisit that little tangent of yours. I like the rock, too, but I thought you were cutting back on your rock collection.”

  “I am,” Jenna said.

  Mm-hm. And I’m not thinking about Kurt.

  “Oh, crap. I forgot the wine. Be right back.” Jenna hurried off the porch.

  “Okay, enough rock talk. Tell me about the dirty chapter.” Amy handed out the plates and lit citronella candles as they sat around the table. “I want all the dirty details.”

  Jenna ran back onto the deck with two bottles of wine.

  Bella went into Leanna’s cottage and came out with plastic wineglasses. She filled them each a glass and passed them out, then sat down with a loud sigh.

  “To a dirty chapter.” Bella held up her glass and clinked it to the others’.

  Leanna shook her head. “You guys are awful. There is no dirty chapter.”

  “But you want there to be. You have that look in your eyes.” Jenna tossed a piece of hamburger to Pepper.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. He’s all…” Hot and bothered when I’m near him. “Neat and meticulous and totally focused on his work. I think those interviews were right. He probably doesn’t ever leave his computer.”

  “Neat and meticulous. I love that.” Jenna was so OCD she wanted to put the letters OCD in alphabetic order. Every photograph in her house was lined up perfectly, and her clothing was organized by color, as were her seventeen pairs of cheap, rubber flip-flops.

  “Yeah, you’d love him. His whole house is pristine and white with wood trim, ju
st like yours.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a neat man, unless he doesn’t like to get down and dirty.” Bella raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh yeah, I hear ya.” Amy lifted her glass and took a drink.

  Leanna’s heart warmed. She loved her friends. During the summers when they were growing up, they’d chased boys, shared details, and tested all of their parents’ patience. She trusted them explicitly and knew that they’d always have her back, just as she’d have theirs. “I went to see him today.”

  The women leaned in closer.

  “And there isn’t much to tell. He said I should stay while he wrote, and I did. I played with Pepper on the beach, and then…” Almost kissed him. She got warm just thinking about him.

  “Then?” Bella pushed.

  “Then he said he had to write.” She shrugged. “So I left.”

  “He kicked you out? You? You’re so cute and fun, and sexy, and…” Jenna shook her head. “If he kicked you out, I wouldn’t have a chance in hell.”

  Leanna took a bite of her burger, mulling over why he told her to leave.

  “Lea, I think we’re missing something. No man just kicks out a beautiful woman. Were you giving off a weird vibe?” Amy asked.

  “Maybe he’s gay.” Bella shrugged.

  “He’s not gay, and I wasn’t giving off a weird vibe. I’m just me, you know. I went in the water, and when I came back onto the deck things were…different.” Hotter.

  They finished their wine, and Amy refilled the glasses. “Were you wearing your pink bikini?”

  “Yeah, like that would scare off any man.” Bella laughed.

  “Charcoal gray.”

  Bella and Amy exchanged another look.

  “You did not.” Bella smacked the table, threw her head back, and laughed.

  “Leanna, really?” Amy shook her head.

  She looked between them. “What?”

  “Leanna, that bathing suit makes you look like a Victoria’s Secret model,” Jenna explained.

  “Oh, it does not.” Leanna shook her head. She wasn’t a woman who looked good in a one-piece bathing suit. Her waist wasn’t exactly small, but it was small enough to make her hips look quite round, and her full breasts needed the lift and support of a good bra. A bikini definitely suited her curves, but she felt very far from anything remotely similar to a Victoria’s Secret model.

  “It’s so small,” Jenna continued. “And let’s face it; you’re not Amy’s size. None of us are.”

  “Hey!” Amy crossed her arms.

  “Sorry, honey, but Leanna has boobs and hips. You have itsy-bitsy anthills, but you’re gorgeous and you know it.” Jenna winked at her. “You probably stole the breath right from his lungs.”

  “And shot it right between his legs.” Bella did a little shimmy with her shoulders.

  “Ha!” Jenna laughed.

  “Uh, yeah. Maybe.” Definitely. “But even so, he’s a guy who knows just what he wants in life and he has it. I’m…me.”

  Amy came around behind Leanna and hugged her. “Aw, Lea. We love you, and any man would be crazy not to feel the same way.”

  “I need to try to figure out my life before I can jump into anyone else’s. I mean, I love the jam business and the flea market, but let’s face it; I’ve gone through more careers than underwear in the last four years.”

  “You’re just finding your niche,” Jenna said.

  Leanna crinkled her nose. “What if I have no niche?”

  “Everyone has a niche,” Bella said. “What’s happening with your jams?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing really. They’re selling pretty well. I sent out proposals to a few grocery chains, and I’ve been talking with a few mail order and online businesses who want to carry my stuff.”

  “But?” Bella asked.

  Leanna shrugged.

  “Oh no. Do not tell me you’re bored.” Bella leaned forward and touched Leanna’s hand. “Leanna, listen to me. Once you get rolling and you’re in more places, you’ll have more orders than you could ever imagine.”

  Leanna had yet to find a job that held her interest for longer than a few months. “It’s not that. I like doing a few shows and not being locked down fulfilling orders. And I really love coming up with new flavors and dealing with the customers. It’s all fun for me. I mean, I really love it, and I have the added benefit of knowing I’m following in Al’s footsteps.”

  “Aw. I miss Al.” Amy’s lips turned down in a frown. By becoming friends with Leanna, Al had also become friends with her Seaside friends. They’d spent time at his flea market booth each summer, listening to stories about his family and the jam-making business, but it was Leanna who’d kept in touch with him over the winters.

  “I know. I do, too.” Leanna petted Pepper. “I just feel like something is always missing, and I have no idea what it is. Like there should be…more.”

  “You haven’t gotten laid all summer. Maybe that’s it.” Bella laughed, then finished her wine in one gulp.

  “Neither has Amy, and she’s not feeling like something’s missing.”

  Amy picked up the empty plates and carried them inside. “She’s right. I love my job at Moby Dick’s, and I love my cottage and seeing you guys. I just love my summers.” Amy had been a waitress at Moby Dick’s restaurant for the past six summers. She had a sweet deal worked out with her real job in Connecticut, where she worked as a bookkeeper. She worked remotely during the summers, and she worked at Moby Dick’s to pick up extra income—and meet men. But Amy was picky when it came to men, and this summer she seemed especially picky, though she claimed nothing had changed.

  “I love what I’m doing. I don’t have a clue what’s missing.” Leanna went inside and brought out a loaf of the bread she’d baked the night before and the apricot-raspberry jam she’d made. Maybe she could fill her emptiness with food.

  Chapter Five

  IT WAS NO use. Kurt couldn’t run on the beach without thinking of Leanna. Yesterday morning he thought about her in his arms as he carried her to the beach, and this morning all he could think about was her delicious curves in that obscenely small bathing suit. She’d forgotten her clothes when she left yesterday evening and he’d washed them last night, then spent two hours debating taking them over to her. Every minute he spent thinking about her was a minute he wasn’t thinking about his writing. And that, it turned out, was a major problem. He’d stayed up until two o’clock in the morning writing what he should have written while she’d been there in that itsy-bitsy bikini—and in the hours afterward when he couldn’t concentrate.

  He jogged up the beach access road and ran the rest of the way home on the hot pavement to try to refocus on Dark Times instead of Leanna. By the time he returned home, he was drenched in sweat and only moderately more focused. He showered, ate breakfast, skimmed the newspaper, and checked his email. While refilling his coffee cup, he eyed Leanna’s shirt and shorts, folded neatly on the counter. He doubted she’d even miss them. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who worried about where she’d left her things, given that she’d left his house without shoes the first night. Neither of them had remembered to put her bike into her van, either.

  He fought the urge to drive them over to her now. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. He had to focus on his writing. On his way out to the deck, he glanced at the basket she’d given him and smiled.

  You really are sweet.

  He opened the apricot-lime jam and tore off a hunk of bread. Inside the basket he found a plastic knife, which, given Leanna’s propensity for forgetting, struck him as quite thoughtful. He layered the thick jam on the bread and sank his teeth into it.

  “Mm.” He closed his eyes and savored the sweet, tangy flavor. He finished that helping and made himself another. He’d never tasted anything like it. The bread was fresh and also a little sweet. He took the basket inside before he devoured the whole loaf.

  A few hours later, with the afternoon sun high in the sky and his fictional v
ictim safely tucked away in the cellar of the villain’s secret hideaway, Kurt closed his laptop and stretched his legs. He’d written a fair amount and chewed on the idea of bringing Leanna her clothes at the flea market. He should write more. Another four or five hours and he would be comfortably ahead of schedule.

  A few days ago this would not have been debatable. He’d stretch, freshen his ice water, and return to the keyboard inspired and ready to write for hours.

  A few days ago he hadn’t known Leanna.

  Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Kurt took a quick shower, threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a short-sleeved, button-down linen shirt, and headed toward the flea market. His cell phone rang as he pulled onto the main road. He clicked his Bluetooth button and answered his sister’s call.

  “Hi, Siena. How are you?”

  “Hey, Kurt. I’m great. You? How’s the Cape?”

  “Perfect.” Almost.

  “Are you doing anything other than writing, or do I need to come out there and drag you down to the beach? It would be a hardship to spend time at the Cape and all, but if you need me to…”

  Siena was a model in New York City, and he pictured her wide smile and bright blue eyes with a glint of tease in them. Siena and her twin, Dex, were Kurt’s youngest siblings. He’d always felt protective of them, but not in the same way as his brothers Jack or Sage had. They had no issue prying into their siblings’ lives or forming an intervention of some type—gathering all the siblings together to take a stance—and giving their two cents. Kurt preferred to remain in the background, and when he took issue with something, he’d talk with his siblings privately. Siena, on the other hand, took far too much pleasure in prying into all of her brothers’ lives.

  “Actually, I’m on my way to the flea market right now.”

  Siena gasped. “No.”

  “Yup.” He smiled, because he knew she wouldn’t believe him. He left his keyboard only under duress. She’d had to bug him for seven weeks before he’d agreed to go on the blind date with her friend, and then he’d accepted only to shut her up. “Listen.” He clicked off his Bluetooth and held his phone up in the air, then brought it back to his ear. “I’ve even got the top down.”