Bahama Mama

by Tricia Leedom

  Anders met Obie’s gaze. “You want to tell her or do you want me to tell her?”

  The little boy thought about it for a minute. “You tell her.”

  “Tell me what?” Molly said cautiously, unsure if she should be worried.

  “We have news.” Anders shifted his leg so she could sit on his lap. The bench was tight, but they all fit. “Greer signed the agreement. I have physical custody of Obie from here on out.”

  Hootin’ with excitement, Molly jumped out of her seat then sat back down again. “Oh, that’s wonderful news!” She squeezed Anders neck and kissed his cheek before doing the same to Obie. The little boy had a grin that wouldn’t quit. “We need to celebrate. I wish Cheyenne was here. She’s gonna be so happy.”

  Cheyenne had gone with Sophie and Jimmy to Miami to shop for baby stuff. Sophie had been almost four months pregnant on her wedding day. Since she was only just beginning to show, she and Jimmy had decided not to tell anyone the happy news until after they got back from their honeymoon. Their baby was due in November—a little girl they were planning to name Emilie Charlotte Panama after Jimmy’s late mama. Sophie had already asked Cheyenne to be the baby’s godmother.

  “How about dinner tonight?” Anders said, giving his son a squeeze. “Obie’s choice.”

  “Can we have a picnic on Uncle Jimmy’s boat?” Obie jumped up from the seat so fast he knocked his glasses crooked. He paused to straighten them.

  Anders’ expression suddenly grew serious. “That’s the other news I had.”

  Molly would’ve been worried this time if she hadn’t noticed the smile he was fighting. “Go on. Obie looks like he’s about to faint from the suspense.”

  Anders chuckled and kissed Molly on the lips. “I bought a boat.”

  Obie squealed and ran around in a little circle.

  Molly laughed and kissed Anders smack on the lips. “You didn’t have to do that.” Gazing into his slanted blue eyes, she stroked his soft, bristly cheek tenderly. The enormous diamond on her left ring finger caught the light and sparkled. Her engagement ring was obnoxious and she absolutely loved it. “I adore you, you crazy man. Do you know that?”

  “The boat was pocket change.”

  “You’re going to spoil this family.”

  She squeaked in surprise as he dipped her backward. “It’s my family to spoil,” he insisted and kissed her again.

  The bell above the door chimed.

  “We’re closed,” Anders shouted over his shoulder and then attempted to pick up where they’d left off.

  “It’s me.” April Linus stood just inside the door.

  Obie stopped running, staggered a little, and waved at April.

  “Let me up.” Molly tapped Anders’ shoulder and he reluctantly straightened her out. She shook off her slight dizziness as she stood up.

  “I know I said I’d be late, but my tummy felt better after I ate something.”

  “I’m so glad you made it in,” Molly said, relieved to see April. “We have to inventory those boxes in the back and I can’t be here all night. I have a dinner date with a couple of handsome sailors.”

  “We’re gonna head out.” Anders stood and pointed to the comic book, reminding Obie not to forget it. The little boy ran over and picked it up. “See you tonight around five?”

  “Four thirty. I’m looking forward to our dinner date.”

  “Me too.” Anders bent down and kissed her quickly, but it still set off a firework in her belly. “Love you.”

  “Love you too.” She wanted to pull him back for another kiss but settled for checking out his butt as he headed for the exit.

  “See you, April.” Catching Molly looking, he gave her a lascivious wink before he followed Obie out the door.

  God, how she loved that man.

  Following April to the back of the shop, Molly was still grinning to herself when she slid onto the stool in front of the computer. April stopped on the opposite side of the counter. When Molly glanced up from the screen, April’s bright, sunny smile faded. She hadn’t been dolling herself up in her hoochie mama clothes lately, and she looked younger than her nineteen years.

  Molly wished she could take credit for the change in April, but she’d never gotten around to talking to her about Jonas. It didn’t seem necessary now that he was gone. Anders had stopped by Casa Linus the day after the birthday party hoping to talk to his brother and that was when he learned Jonas had left town permanently.

  April was dressed conservatively in a boxy peach top, black Capri leggings, and white Keds that Molly was pretty certain belonged to Cheyenne.

  “What’s wrong, sugar?” Molly retrieved her venti mocha from behind the counter and savored a sip.

  April took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I was wondering if the assistant store manager position is still available?”

  “Sure,” Molly said carefully. “It’s full time though. Are you interested?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve always said the position is yours if you want it, but why the change of heart?”

  April looked down at the floor and shrugged. “I’ve been thinking it’s time I learn how to take on more responsibility. I’m a grown woman now.”

  Molly hid her smile and leaned against the counter. “You don’t have to work if you don’t want to. You’re an heiress.”

  “Not anymore.”

  About to take another sip of coffee, Molly changed direction and set her cup down.

  April’s chin quivered, but she pressed her lips together, battling whatever she was holding inside.

  “What happened, April? Did your father throw you out?”

  “Not yet, but he’s going to. He’ll try to send me to Switzerland or something, but I won’t go. Key West is my home.”

  This couldn’t be about Jonas. The last time they were together, he spurned April’s advances and he’d been gone for weeks since then. Maybe it was the other boy? Damian Rios? Cheyenne had told Molly about his banishment to Tampa. “Is this about that young man your father said you couldn’t see? Cheyenne told me you spent some time with him back in June while he was here visiting his family.”

  “Damian and I are friends.”

  Molly raised an eyebrow. “Just friends?”

  April glanced away and didn’t answer.

  She was obviously hiding something about the boy.

  Molly cared about April. It suddenly occurred to her how she might be able to help. “Do you need a place to live? We were gonna keep the apartment above our pool house open for guests, but I’m sure Anders would let you use it. You’d be within walking distance to work.”

  April’s head came up, and this time happy tears sprung to her eyes. “Do you really mean it?” She grabbed Molly’s arm and squeezed it excitedly.

  “I mean it, but you have to tell me what’s going on. Why do you think your daddy’s going to send you away?”

  Bowing her head, April nodded as if coming to a decision. She sniffled and scratched the tip of her nose. Then she squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath before meeting Molly’s eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  The Key West Escape Series Continues with Passion Punch Available 2019 - Preorder Today!

  PASSION PUNCH

  When April Linus discovers she’s pregnant, the pampered hotel heiress walks away from her trust fund to protect her child and the identity of her baby daddy from her criminal father. But single motherhood isn’t easy. Keeping her secrets stowed away tightly, she navigates through some rough seas alone and manages to build a new life for herself. Now, two men from her past are back in Key West wanting to rock the boat…

  One wants to rekindle their high school romance.

  The other wants to put her father in prison.

  Black Ops operative Jonas Ostergaard made a nearly fatal mistake four years ago. He let April distract him from his mission. After working his way into her father’s circle of trust, Jonas was yanked off the job by his superiors and reassigned. Now he’s back t
o finish what he started, even if that means having to work up close and personal with the one woman who has the power to bring him to his knees.

  When Jonas persuades April to help him stop her father from selling a dangerous new technology to a corrupt foreign government, they end up on the run dodging arms dealers in the steamy Amazon rain forest. They quickly learn that together, they can fight anything except for their smoldering attraction to each other.

  But April starts to wonder what kind of relationship she could have with a man who may have more secrets that she has. Jonas disappeared on her once, what’s to stop him from doing it again?

  One thing she knows for certain, none of it will matter if they don’t get out of the jungle alive.

  Review Request

  Dear Reader,

  Reviews are like currency to any author – actually, even better! As they help to get our books noticed by even more readers, we would be so grateful if you would take a moment to review this book on Amazon, Goodreads, iBooks - wherever - and feel free to share it on social media!

  We’re not asking for any special favors – honest reviews would be perfect. They also don’t need to be long or in-depth, just a few of your thoughts would be so appreciated.

  Thank you greatly from the bottom of our hearts. For your time, for your support, and for being a part of our reading community. We couldn’t do it without you – nor would we want to!

  ~ Our Firefly Hill Press Family

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not have been possible without the support and encouragement of Danielle Modafferi. Thank you for believing in me and my writing. I can’t express how grateful I am for the opportunities you’ve given me.

  Thank you to my amazing editor Lola Dodge whose guidance helped shaped this book into something I’m really proud of. I literally could not have written Bahama Mama without you.

  Thank you to Aileen Latcham for your words of encouragement and for giving me the opportunity to fulfill my dream of being a published author.

  Thank you to my friends and family for your constant support and patience, especially when I disappeared into my writing cave for hours on end to work.

  And thank you to my friends in the Outlander fandom. The idea for this book was inspired by my own experience as a fangirl to a certain someone, ahem (Sam Heughan.) I’d like to add another dedication to you, my fellow fan-girls. Never stop daydreaming...

  About the Author

  Tricia Leedom enjoys traveling to exotic destinations and having torrid love affairs with hot, dangerous men... even if it's only in her own mind. When she's not writing romantic adventure novels, she reads voraciously, tweets compulsively, and fangirls over a TV show based on the Outlander book series. She earned her BA in Creative Writing from the The University of Tampa and her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. Tricia enjoys funny hashtags, cheap airfare, and fan-girling over a TV show based on her favorite book series. She lives in Southwest Florida with two very spoiled dogs.

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  Follow Tricia on Twitter and Instagram @tricialeedom

  One S’more Summer: Book One of the Campfire Series

  Author: Beth Merlin

  Genre: Chick Lit/Romance

  CHAPTER ONE

  Standing at the stop, waiting for the camp bus, I was amazed by just how little had changed in the almost fifteen years since I was a camper. To my left were the kids who couldn’t stop crying. To my right, the ones far too cool to stand anywhere near their parents. Then, the most recognizable group of all—the teenage girls who stood sizing each other up to determine who would be their fiercest competition for male attention over the summer. I took a deep breath and pulled out the clipboard listing the campers who would be on my bus. I put the whistle I’d been given at orientation around my neck and pushed my way through the crowd of duffle bags, trunks, and families. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a girl younger than me, but definitely older than the surrounding campers.

  “Are you the bus counselor?” she asked. I nodded and extended my hand, which she didn’t shake. “I’m Tara, your CIT,” she said coolly. “CIT? Oh, right, my Counselor in Training. I’m Gigi, head

  counselor of the Cedar girls.” “You look young to be head counselor. How old are you?”

  I looked down at my out t of jeans, Converse sneakers, and a Camp Chinooka T-shirt. No wonder she thought I looked young. I couldn’t remember the last time I wasn’t in stiletto heels.

  “I’m twenty-seven,” I answered.

  “Wow, you’re actually old,” she said, completely unaware of how rude she was being.

  “Excuse me. I’m going to go start rallying the troops now,” I said.

  I climbed onto one of the trunks and blew my whistle. “My name’s Gigi Goldstein. I’m head counselor for the Cedar girls, so hi all,” I said, giving a little wave. “We’re going to start boarding the buses in just a few minutes, so I need everyone to make sure their bags have been loaded on. If you have any special medications you need for the bus ride, keep those separate, and make sure a parent hands them to me before we leave. I’ll be right here checking off names, so start making a line.”

  The older kids rushed to the front of the line, anxious to board and get their first taste of summer independence. I couldn’t believe how much older thirteen looked now than when I was that age. The girls looked like mini versions of my twenty-something friends, decked out in trendy clothes and talking about which boys they were going to hook up with over the summer. When the campers had finished filling the bus, I spotted Tara still on her phone.

  “Hey, Tara, we’re gonna get going,” I said, motioning for her to hang up.

  “One sec,” she called back to me from the curb. “I’m saying goodbye to my boyfriend. We get, like, no reception up at camp. I don’t know when I’ll speak to him again.”

  Though I knew how important that last phone call was to a seventeen-year-old who thought being apart for the summer meant the same thing as being apart forever, I snickered at the dramatics of it. Forever was knowing the one man you’d ever loved was getting married to your best friend in just two months. Now that was worth some dramatics.

  When Tara finally climbed on the bus and mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to me, I knew I’d just made an ally, if only for the three-hour trip we had in front of us. I settled into my seat closed my eyes and thought back to my very first summer at Camp Chinooka.

  I was nine years old and had never been away from home before. My mother had dropped me off at the bus stop but left soon after to make it to her standing weekly facial appointment. Seeing me alone and upset, a girl wearing a faded Camp Chinooka T-shirt and a pair of cutoff Levi jean shorts had come over and introduced herself. Alicia Scheinman had shiny blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a small smattering of freckles across her nose so perfectly placed you’d swear each one was individually applied with a tweezer. Based on the number of arriving campers who’d stopped to say hello to her, I could tell immediately she was one of the popular girls and I was grateful she’d decided to take me under her wing. By the time the bus came, I knew I’d made a good friend. By the time that first summer was over, I knew I’d made a lifelong one.

  A few hours later and somewhere in the middle of the twenty-fifth round of ‘99 Bottles of Beer,’ we finally passed the sign for the road to Camp Chinooka. Tara, who’d sulked most of the trip, perked up a bit and offered her assistance picking up the trash off the seats. When the last camper was off, I made my way out of the bus and was able to take a good look around.

  Camp Chinooka had opened in the early 1900s and it still retained much of its original rustic quality. There were a few sports fields, a swimming pool that had been added about ten years ago, and several different cabins that housed activities like arts and crafts and woodworking. Down a large hill nestled the camp’s namesake, Lake Chinooka. It was my favorite place at camp—maybe the whole world. I used to love sitting
on the dock right as the sun was going down and the only sounds were the crickets in the trees and the wind hitting the sails of the docked boats. My whole childhood had been spent in New York City, and until I got to Camp Chinooka, I’d never known that kind of quiet even existed.

  On the far side of the camp, past the amphitheater was The Canteen. The Canteen was an old barn that had been converted into a recreational center. On the outside was a window where campers would line up to buy snacks and treats out of their summer allowance. On the inside, was a jukebox, old couches, and a crude bar that had been made by the head woodshop counselor sometime in the 1970s. It was a popular nighttime hangout for the counselors, who made good use of the bar...and the couches.

  Some of the bunks had fresh coats of paint on them, and everything seemed just a little bit smaller. Really, though, so little had changed that I could have been stepping off the bus fifteen years ago. As I continued to take in the surroundings, a man with the sexiest English accent I’d ever heard called out my name. I assumed he was part of the Camp America program, an organization that provided international staff to summer camps. The foreign counselors usually spent eight weeks at camp, earning money so they could travel around the US when the summer session ended. When I was a camper all the girls developed huge crushes on the British counselors, who were always far more interesting and exotic than their American counterparts. Looking around at how all the girls were gazing at this guy, I could tell little had changed.