Samantha met her out front and handed her a check.
“What's this?” Riley looked down and saw $25,000.
“It isn’t enough, but if you’re willing to create more instrument sculptures, I’ve got buyers.” She explained how several of her friends, mostly musicians, wanted them for their homes and gardens, and now she was making a name for herself, she could charge more.
“This is twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Luke pulled up and stepped out of his SUV with a bottle of champagne. “Congratulations.”
Riley pointed. “You knew?”
He shrugged. “You know, it’s a small town. Word travels fast.”
While Riley knew Samantha was going to try to sell the sculptures, she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She tried to hand the check back to her to help pay for the damages done, but Samantha refused. “I hear you’ve got good taste in tile. You’ll need that.” Sam turned around and walked away.
“You done for the day?” she asked Luke.
His head moved left to right slowly. “Nope. I’ve got lots to do.” He raised the bottle of bubbly into the air. “I’ve got a toast to make, a girlfriend to propose to, and a bed to muss up.”
She knew her smile was wide. Her cheeks ached from the strain. “Did you say you wanted to muss up the bed?”
“Is that all you heard?”
This time, her head moved back and forth. “No, I also heard something about a toast.”
“You’re killing me.” He took a knee and set the bottle on the ground. From his pocket, he pulled out a blue velvet box. “Riley Black, you pulled into town, and I was an idiot. I should have listened to my heart the moment it told me you were the one.”
She ran her hand through his hair. “When was that?”
“The second you put a quarter in the machine and played ‘Ain’t That a Shame.’ That might have been the song playing on the jukebox, but in my head all I heard was, ‘I Only Have Eyes for You.’”
He opened the box to show a simple solitaire. Not too big. Not too small. It was perfect.
“What do you say, baby? Will you be mine forever?”
She smiled. “Did you say we were going to muss up the sheets?”
“I did.” He pulled the ring from the box. “And drink champagne. Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He stood and kissed her before he slid the ring all the way onto her finger. “You know what this means, right?”
She giggled. “Yes, it means I’ve taken Mr. February off the market.”
“Let's go home and seal the deal with a toast and a tryst.”
“Did you say tryst?”
“I couldn’t say what I really want to do to you in public.”
She leaned in and offered him her ear. “Then tell me.”
He told her things that should make her blush, but all his naughty words did was make her run.
“Race you,” she challenged as she hopped in her car and started the engine.
He called after her, “Baby, I told you a while ago, I’d always catch you.”
Riley headed straight for home. It was hard to believe that only a few months ago, she’d pulled into town with little money and less hope.
She arrived with three things on her bucket list. To be an artist. To love herself. To build a life. She’d learned there were a hundred ways to live. A hundred ways to hate. A hundred ways to love. She came here expecting little but got so much from the town who took care of its own. In Aspen Cove, she found her family. She found her artistic passion. She found herself. She found the love of her life.
The past was in her rearview mirror, but so was her future. Luke was only a car length behind and closing the gap.
Find out if Thomas can keep his heart of stone contained in his steel enclosure in One Hundred Goodbyes.
Thank you for reading.
Do you love talking books with other readers?
Join Kelly Collins’ Book Nook for prizes, books, and live chats.
Kelly Collins’ Book Nook
Want to be the first to know about new releases?
Sign up here for members-only exclusives, including advance notice of pre-orders, as well as contests, giveaways, freebies, and special deals.
You can also follow me on Bookbub
Sneak Peek into One Hundred Goodbyes
Eden Webster sat at her desk looking through the stack of mail. She’d sorted it no less than a dozen time this week. There was the due last week pile, the due this week pile, and the long overdue pile she was certain would send her to debtor’s prison any day.
Suzanne said she’d take care of it all, but Suzanne was missing in action. After placing a call each day for the last week to her sister, she’d about given up on connecting.
Her stomach growled and her belly rippled as the baby moved inside her.
She laid her hand on the tight skin of her rounded stomach and waited for the little foot to push against her palm. It seemed to be their game. Her stomach would growl, and the baby would kick as if telling her to keep it quiet in there.
“Hey little one,” she crooned. “How about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
She rolled slowly to her feet. At nearly eight months pregnant, she moved like a sloth. Getting to her feet from a seated position seemed to be almost as challenging as getting out of bed. Though she’d only gained twenty-five pounds, she felt as big as a house.
Porkchop did a figure eight around her ankles, swishing his long tail back and forth as Eden moved to the counter and pulled out the bread and peanut butter.
“It’s a good thing you like peanut butter.” She stared down at the cat who sat more like a dog ready to beg. “You’re impossible you know that?”
Porkchop had belonged to her elderly neighbor Grace. When her children moved her into a long-term care home, they asked Eden to take the cat.
Sucker must have been written all over her face. If there was a word that wasn’t in Eden’s vocabulary, it was no.
She glanced down at the cotton stretching over her belly. Her inability to say no got her into this situation in the first place.
She slathered the peanut butter on two slices of white bread and scraped the grape jelly jar clean.
Looking down at Porkchop, she didn’t have the heart not to share, so she tore a corner of her sandwich free and put it on a plate.
She knew the feline well enough to know she’d lift her nose now, but as soon as Eden turned her back, the cat would gobble it down. Porkchop was the opposite of Eden. She always said no initially.
A glance at the clock told Eden it was time to go. She’d been lucky to keep her job at Rocco’s Bar and Grill. The work was tough, but the check was helpful when her sister forgot about the promises she’d made, which happened quite frequently over the last couple months.
Eden was the pregnant one, but it seemed as if her sister suffered from baby brain.
The cat followed her to the door like she did every afternoon. She reached down to stroke Porkchop’s back. At five, she was still a kitten at heart and flopped to her back to swat at Eden’s hand.
“There’s no time to play. I have to get to work or you won’t be getting any treats this week.” At the mention of treats, Porkchop dashed into the kitchen where they were stored. It was the perfect opportunity for Eden to slip on her jacket and leave.
In the hallway, old man Shubert shuffled toward the elevator. “Hold the car will ya, Eden?”
She wanted to groan because holding the car for Mr. Shubert meant she’d have to wait five minutes for him to close the twenty-foot distance.
Instead she smiled. “No problem.” She leaned against the open doors that tried to close constantly. The thumping against her back eased the pinch she felt at her tailbone. “Take your time.”
The old man laughed. “Time is all I’ve got.” When he finally arrived, he looked down at her belly. “You look like you’re ready to pop.”
She shouldere
d her purse and moved aside so he could enter the elevator. “I’ve got about six weeks left.” Her hands lovingly stroked her stomach.
“Boy or girl?”
He asked her that each time he saw her. The answer was always the same. “It’s got to be one or the other, but I don’t know which.” The sex of the baby was a mystery.
“Where’s the father?”
That was always the second question. Eden didn’t have a man in her life. She hadn’t for quite some time. “He’s somewhere out there.”
“Better track him down.”
She pressed the button for the lobby, and when the doors opened, she wished Mr. Shubert a good day and walked into the sunshine.
Late summer and fall were her favorite times of the year. The trees in the Rockies would turn into a cornucopia of colors. It wasn’t too hot, and the ugly grip of winter was still months away from Denver.
She hopped on the bus and took it downtown. It would have been easier to drive but her doctor wasn’t fond of her getting behind the wheel given that her entire pregnancy was in front of her. Many women gained their weight all around, but Eden was one of those that grew forward. From the back no one would know she was so far along. It was the basketball up front that gave it all away.
At 16th Street, she exited and walked by her favorite candy store. She had one constant craving. Good & Plenty were certainly good but not always plenty as few stores carried the pink and white coated candies. Black licorice was a taste at her late stages of pregnancy she required regularly.
Digging through her purse, she found the sixty-three cents she’d need to buy a package.
Sharma smiled as she walked inside. The clerk pulled a pink and white box from under the counter. “I saved this for you.”
“You’re a saint.” She set her change on the counter picking out the piece of purse lint that got mixed into the coins.
“No, I’m Punjabi, which is close to being a saint.”
Eden raised the box to her lips and kissed it. “Thank you. I’ll be able to get through the night with these.”
She made her way down the outside mall and walked into work.
One look around told everyone that Rocco’s taste in waitresses went to curvy blondes but not pregnant curvy. Rocco looked at her from behind the bar and shook his head. He’d hired her long before she’d decided to have a baby. His look was as dark as the paneling that covered the walls.
An apron sailed through the air toward her and he pointed toward the back of the restaurant. Her evening assignment was no surprise. As soon as she started to show, he hid her.
Eden hung up her coat and grabbed a handful of candies before she went to her station. She had two tables seated with what looked like another on the way. Things would pick up once the dinner crowd hit.
Three hours and sixteen pizzas later she looked up to find her ex Matt in her corner booth canoodling his girlfriend—a doppelganger of herself. Blonde hair and blue eyed she was the spitting image of Eden minus the baby.
Everyone always said people had a type. Matt sure did. By the looks of the new one, he liked them blonde, petite and enamored. Eden had been his type for two years. When things became comfortable, he found himself another. This was number three if her count was correct.
“Welcome to Rocco’s.” She smiled like she did for everyone, although with Matt it was harder to pin the corners of her lips up. “Can I start you with something to drink.” She looked at Matt knowing his girlfriend would never get to choose.
“Hey Eden.” His eyes skimmed her body, stopping on her stomach. “You’re looking—”
“Oh, my God,” blondie said. “You’re huge. How does a person have sex like that?”
Eden smiled and caressed her belly. “Sex?” She stared at Matt. “Never had it. Or at least it wasn’t memorable. How about a bottle of Chianti?”
It was almost comical to watch Matt’s arrogance wilt. “Chianti sounds great.” His eyes never lifted from her stomach. “Who’s the father?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s hard to tell.” Eden turned and walked away.
Matt and his new toy didn’t bother her the rest of the night. It was a regular named Dave Mason that was the problem. Each time she leaned over the bar he caressed her backside. There was no point in talking to Rocco because Dave was his best buddy. Served in the Army for years together. Eden was smart enough to know that Rocco’s motto was bro’s before ho’s and a ho was anything that didn’t have a penis.
She hefted a tray of beers to her shoulders and turned, but not before Dave slid his hand between her legs.
She lost her balance.
She had a choice.
She could save the beers and fall into Dave’s lap or she could drop the tray and step aside. She chose option two and the tray of mugs went crashing to the ground.
“Dammit, Eden. What the hell happened?”
Eden looked around to make sure no one was hurt. Except for a sprinkling of lager on a shirt or two, all the glass hit the floor in front of Dave, trapping him in his chair.
She pointed at him. “He’s what happened. He won’t keep his hands to himself.”
Rocco looked at Dave and then at her and doubled over with laughter.
“Sorry doll, but I know him and knocked up ain’t his thing.” He looked down at the mess on the floor. “I’ll take it out of tonight’s tips.”
She could barely afford the bus fare back home nonetheless afford to pay for six pints of beer, glasses and all. “No.” the word felt odd on her lips. “This is his fault. He’s constantly touching me.”
Rocco looked at her like she’d grown a hairy tooth from her chin. “He means no harm.”
Eden rarely cussed but something inside her heated up. She pressed her hands to her stomach as if she were covering her baby's ears.
“Dammit, Rocco!” The bar got quiet and all eyes turned toward her. “The only thing he’s missing is the stirrups. The man practically gives me a pap smear each time I pass him.”
Dave lifted his hands in the air. “Dude, she’s crazy. I never touched her.”
Rocco looked between his friend and Eden. She knew what was coming before the words ever came out.
She was halfway to untying her apron when he said, “I can’t have you accusing the customers of misconduct. You’re fired.”
She pulled a handful of Good & Plenty from her pocket and shoved them into her mouth. It would be the only good thing about her day.
Need More from Aspen Cove?
An Aspen Cove Romance Series
One Hundred Reasons
One Hundred Heartbeats
One Hundred Wishes
One Hundred Promises
One Hundred Excuses
One Hundred Christmas Kisses
One Hundred Lifetimes
One Hundred Ways
One Hundred Goodbyes
To see more Kelly Collins’ books click here.
Get a free Aspen Cove book.
Click here for a free Aspen Cove Novella.
About the Author
International bestselling author of more than thirty novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.
Kelly lives in Colorado at the base of the Rocky Mountains with her husband of twenty-seven years, their two dogs, and a bird that hates her. She has three amazing children, whom she loves to pieces.
Sign up for my reader’s club and never miss a thing.
Click Here
For More Information
www.authorkellycollins.com
[email protected]
hive.
One Hundred Ways: An Aspen Cove Romance Page 19