What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  The sun shined brightly through the windows. She wished she had noticed the blinds were open last night and the curtains were tied back. Pulling the sheets over her face, she closed her eyes for a few more minutes as she tried to wake up.

  Finally, after battling with herself that she needed to get up, she climbed out of the comfortable bed. She put her jeans back on and then pulled her hair up in a ponytail. A sudden urge to use the restroom took over, and she rushed toward the bathroom. This was something new—no bladder control. She didn’t expect to already have to pee so much.

  She brushed her teeth then made sure everything was tidy as though she hadn’t been there. Grabbing her suitcase, she left the room as quietly as possible. She expected to find Claire up front, but she was nowhere to be seen. So she stopped by the front desk and scribbled a note, thanking Claire for the stay and saying they would talk soon. After all, she was going to need someone during this process. As young girls, they had always gotten along.

  Outside, the sun was bright. There was a chill to the air, however. The few clouds in the sky were thick and fluffy. She bet there would be a light snow shower before the day was over. In fact, she was surprised to not see any snow on the ground yet. It would be anytime now.

  The drive to her mother’s house was short. She lived on the older side of town, and it was unchanged except that the trees had gotten taller.

  Julie couldn’t wait to see her mom. It had been almost a year since she’d seen her. Julie had flown her out last Christmas to visit her in New York City. She’d taken her mother everywhere, showing her every tourist spot there was to see. Her mother had loved it and said it had always been a dream of hers to travel. Julie hoped one day her mother would get to. Her father had died about ten years ago, and her mother had never remarried. She had a few close friends, though, and maybe one day they would all get together and travel.

  But for now, Julie needed her mom. She couldn’t wait to have her mother embrace her and hold her tight, telling her it would all work out.

  She pulled up to the house that looked no different from the last time she was here. A small ranch-style home painted a light shade of brown. It was time for a fresh coat of paint, that was sure. Perhaps she could get someone out here in the spring to spruce the place up. Her mother’s car wasn’t in its usual spot but instead pulled over near the picket fence. A red pick-up truck sat where the car was usually parked. Maybe something was wrong with the vehicle, and she was borrowing the truck.

  Climbing out of the car, the scent of cooking bacon welcomed her and she smiled. Her mom was cooking breakfast. Shutting the car door quickly, she went up the front steps two at a time. As she turned the doorknob, she found it locked. Groaning, she dug through her purse until she found the key to the house and let herself in.

  Loud music blared through the house. It was set to a local country station. This was so unlike her mother. In fact, as Julie glanced around the living room and saw how untidy it was, she wondered if she was in the right house.

  “Mom.”

  Following the smell of food, she stepped into the kitchen. Julie froze. A half-naked man stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. He turned, staring at her. Julie placed a hand on her forehead, feeling dizzy.

  “Hi,” the man said as though this was a normal morning.

  “Who the hell are you, and where is my mother?” Julie demanded.

  Chapter Two

  Mark knew exactly who stood before him looking slightly frightened. It was Julie, the daughter of Margret Miller. She was even more beautiful in person than she was in the pictures scattered all over the house. Her dark blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She had deep brown eyes that, at this moment, were very wide. He’d have loved to let his eyes wander and check out her body, but that didn’t seem appropriate at the moment.

  “I’m Mark Thomas.” He set the spatula down.

  “Where is my mother?” she asked again.

  He shrugged. “Good question. Perhaps there will be a postcard in the mail today.”

  “What do you mean?” She rubbed her temple.

  “Your mother is out traveling the country.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “She’s what?”

  “Her and some friends bought some RV they found for sale, and decided they were taking off. I think they were heading south for the winter.”

  Julie didn’t say anything. One hand moved to her mouth and she nibbled on a nail. It was cute. Most likely a habit she’d always wanted to kick but never would. He wished he had something more to tell her but there wasn’t.

  “Why are you here then?” she asked.

  “Your mom didn’t want to leave the place empty. I just moved into town and was looking for a place. The price was right and, well, here I am.”

  She paced the length of the kitchen. “This makes no sense. She didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t she?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that.”

  Julie shot him a stern look, and he knew to just be quiet. In fact, as he took in a deep breath, the smell of something burning caught his attention. Shit, it was the pancakes. Grabbing the spatula, Mark quickly flipped the pancake and wasn’t at all surprised to see it black as night.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Actually, yes, I’m starving. I rushed over this morning for breakfast with Mom.”

  “I can’t promise it’ll be as good, but it’ll at least fill you up.” Taking the opportunity now, he checked out her gorgeous body. She was lean with a few curves. She could probably use a few more pounds, not that he was complaining.

  “I’ll be right back.” She left the kitchen in a hurry, and he took the chance to check out her round backside. That was a sight he could get used to. But now he had to return his attention back to the breakfast he was preparing.

  Julie headed straight for her mom’s room. Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it. That man was hot. How she’d been able to even carry on a conversation with him standing there in only a pair of loose-fitting jeans that hung low on his hips, was questionable.

  Finally composing herself, her gaze darted around the room, looking for anything off. Mark had a believable story but, coming from living in New York City, she knew people were not always what they seemed. There was always the possibility that he was robbing her mother—or worse, he had murdered her.

  She dug around in her mother’s dresser when she noticed a shoebox. Picking up the box and studying it, Julie could tell it was for a pair of men’s boots—and the box was too new to be anything that belonged to her father. She held the box against her chest. He wasn’t staying in here, was he? There weren’t any other signs that he was. She shook the box, a light clinking came from it. Sitting on the firm bed, she placed it in her lap before she lifted the lid off and saw an array of postcards. The first one she grabbed was from Salt Lake City, Utah. On the back, it was simply addressed to the house with a small note about what her mother thought of her visit.

  Gorgeous state. Must come back when I have more time.

  Julie then picked up a few more cards and saw her mother had done the same thing on all of them. It seemed each city she visited she had mailed herself card. Julie couldn’t help but smile that her mom was finally doing what she had always wanted, but she also wished her mom was home. Right now was a scary time for her, and she feared she was going to have to get through this without her mother.

  She placed all the cards back in the box to look over later. Her bladder was calling again. To the bathroom she went. After doing her business, eating was next on her list. Her stomach growled and churned. Hopefully getting some food in her belly would be just what she needed and the queasiness would go away.

  Returning to the kitchen, she saw Mark had set two places at the kitchen table. A plate of pancakes already sat in the center.

  “Hey.” He set forks down and grinned at her, a small dimple forming in his cheek. “Would you mind getting the orange juice?”

  She nodded
and went to the fridge and pulled out a clear canister that appeared to have fresh-squeezed juice in it. She placed it on the table then found two cups from the cupboard and brought them over.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  She’d love one more than anything but remembered reading somewhere she had to limit her caffeine. “No.”

  “Just have a seat then. Finishing up the eggs now. Hope scrambled is okay.”

  Who was she to complain when a hottie was cooking for her? “It is.”

  He now had a worn grey T-shirt on. She was glad. Otherwise, she might have embarrassed herself by drooling on her food. He’d had a set of six packs she usually only saw on male swim suit models.

  Mark took his seat after setting two plates of bacon and eggs on the table. Now that he was closer, she saw he had the most beautiful shade of blue eyes she’d seen. They reminded her of the blue forget-me-not flowers that were planted each summer in her mother’s garden. He kept his brown hair short. He was strikingly handsome and, even though his shirt was now on, there was still a slight chance she might salivate.

  “What brings you home to Brookfield?” He stabbed some bacon and placed it on his plate.

  Ha, like she was going to tell him the truth. “I was homesick I guess you could say. I wanted to see my mom.”

  “She mentioned you lived in New York and you were some hotshot editor for one of the big publishers.”

  She was practically married to her job. “Yes, it’s a lot of fun. I get to read some great stories.”

  “That’s good. I like to read in my spare time.”

  Not many men she knew read. Reading was one of her favorite things to do. “What do you read?”

  “Murder mysteries usually. But, if you promise not to tell anyone, you can often catch me reading something off the best-sellers list. That’s the benefit to eReaders. No one knows what you’re reading.”

  “True, eReaders and eBooks are taking over. So many great authors out there, too.”

  He nodded and cut off a chunk of pancake.

  Julie picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. It was crunchy, just the way she liked. The one little slice was like heaven, hitting all the right taste buds. Food had never tasted so good, though her stomach wasn’t feeling too much better. Hopefully in just a few minutes, it would settle.

  “You like bacon I take it,” he said as she stuffed another piece into her mouth.

  “I’m just hungry. I traveled all day yesterday and missed dinner.”

  She grabbed the syrup and poured it over her pancakes. Taking a big bite, her taste buds loved the maple flavor. She didn’t know what was going on, but food just seemed to have better flavoring suddenly.

  She finished her plate of food. Even though she thought she could most likely eat more, she didn’t want to look like a pig. She sat back, rubbing her belly and wishing it would settle, but that just wasn’t happening. As much as she wanted to just sit in the chair, she knew the proper thing to do was to help clean up. She stacked the plates then brought them to the sink.

  “I can get it,” Mark said.

  “It’s fine.”

  Julie placed the dishes in the sink and turned the hot water on. Her mother’s old house didn’t have a dishwasher, so these dishes were going to have to be hand-washed. She reached for the bottle of blue dish detergent and put a squirt into the filling sink. A fruity smell rose from the water. As the scent hit her, a wave of sickness took over.

  “Oh, God.” She placed her hand over her mouth and ran toward the nearest bathroom.

  Her breakfast came out a whole lot quicker than it went in. She was embarrassed. How was she to leave this bathroom without Mark asking her questions? All she could do now was pray Mark would believe she had gotten sick from either a stomach bug or a lack of eating while traveling. He was a man, and there was no way he would think she was pregnant, she hoped.

  Chapter Three

  As Mark finished the dishes, he knew why Julie was home. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. She was pregnant, and there was a story behind why she was home and not with the father. Obviously, she needed her mother at a time like this, and he wasn’t sure where Margret was. The most he could do was call the number she’d left before she’d started her journey. It was a pre-paid cell phone. She’d left instructions that he could call and leave a message and, when she either had service or a pay phone, she’d get back to him. Though it wasn’t his place, he supposed, to get in touch with her. He would, however, give Julie the number.

  The last dish was dried and he hung the towel up on the stove. Now would be a good time to clean himself up. He needed to get down to Country Furniture, the local furniture shop, to finish up an order. He looked out the window and noticed the clouds. They looked like they were ready to leave a light dusting. He just hoped it held out until he was able to make it home.

  Just as he left the kitchen, Julie came in. Her face slightly pale from getting sick.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “I think it was from not eating yesterday. I ate way too much too fast.”

  “I understand.” It was best not to let on that he knew. “I finished up the dishes and, since this is your mom’s place, feel free to rest for a bit. You’re welcome to stay here. I’m going to wash up and head to work for a bit.”

  “Thanks.” She scrunched her nose. “This is awkward. I don’t even know you. Maybe I should just head back over to Honeycreek Bed and Breakfast and rent a room. It would be insane for me to stay here with you, a complete stranger.”

  She was being rational, but for some reason he didn’t want her to go. “No, don’t be silly. Your mother would kill me. Maybe I’ll got rent the room.”

  “We’ll figure it out later. I’m tired, so I think I just might go lie down for a bit in her room, and we’ll deal with who is staying where when I get up.”

  He clutched his fists, resisting the urge to brush the lose strand of hair from her face. “Sounds like a plan. Your mom left a number, so I could reach her. It’s scribbled on a pad on the side of the fridge.”

  “Thanks.” She stood a moment, staring at him. How he wished he knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a shower calling my name.”

  He would have much rather stood in the kitchen the rest of the day and taken in every inch of Julie but, if he wanted to make the rent, he had to work.

  Julie slept hard. She hadn’t even been back in Brookfield twenty-four hours, and she already felt better rested than ever.

  She pulled the covers up and snuggled in. There was a new chill to the air. It was as though the air in the room had dropped ten degrees. Her suitcase was still in the trunk of her car. Too bad Mark wasn’t still here. She would’ve asked him to bring it in, but did that mean she was staying here with him? No, she couldn’t, could she? She had time to figure it out before he got back. Right now she needed the long johns she’d packed.

  Julie tossed the covers off, regretting it the moment she did. It was freezing. Someone needed to crank up the heat and get a fire going in the fireplace.

  In her mom’s closet, she dug out a pair of slippers and slid them on her feet. There was an ugly orange terry-cloth robe hanging in there also. That would do for now. She was going for warmth, not fashion. Besides, there weren’t any neighbors around anyway. Her mother owned several acres, and tall, thick trees lined the property.

  In the living room, she was startled to see Mark as he built a fire. How long had she been asleep?

  “I didn’t know if you were ever going to get up.” Mark stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “I was starting to get worried with you being sick.”

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Several hours. Feeling better?”

  “A little.” Her stomach did feel better. She was hungry again but didn’t want a repeat performance. Maybe just stick with something small for now. “Oh, do you think you could possibly get my suitcase from my car when you have a free
moment?”

  “I wish, but that isn’t happening.”

  Wow, was he rude or what? She’d thought he was somewhat of a gentleman but, boy, was she wrong.

  “I would if I could,” he said.

  She crossed her arms. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Have you looked outside?” She shook her head. “Well, while you were napping, the clouds opened up. A blizzard has hit and it’s still coming down.”

  “What?”

  Julie ran to the closest window, yanking the curtains aside. He wasn’t joking. There was snow and a lot of it. It was already halfway up her car. From the looks of it, it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. They were snowed in.

  Chapter Four

  Mark couldn’t help but grin. The poor girl appeared panic-stricken, and where had she gotten that ugly orange thing she was wearing? He’d burn it when she wasn’t looking. It then clicked—Julie’s suitcase was out there, which meant she didn’t have any of her things. No wonder she looked the way she did.

  “I can’t be stuck here.” She paced in a small circle.

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere.” He glanced at her feet. “Especially in slippers.”

  “You’re real funny, you know that?”

  “I’m sorry, really I am. Can I get you something?” While I burn that ugly robe.

  “I can get it.” Julie spun on her heels and strutted toward the kitchen.

  This was going to be fun. Neither of them was going anywhere, and he was going to be stuck in this house with Miss Cranky Pants. He knew pregnant women could be hormonal, but jeez. She’d been in a better mood before she’d gotten up.

  Sounds of clanking came from the room she was in, followed by a round of cursing. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go in there, but he also didn’t want to see the kitchen destroyed.