Vodka and Chocolate Drops: A Blueberry Springs Sweet Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

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Vodka and Chocolate Drops: A Blueberry Springs Sweet Chick Lit Contemporary Romance Page 2

by Jean Oram


  She turned the backhoe’s bucket, trying to angle the trailer away from the yard’s steep drop-off. She could easily end up with it pinned against the cliff’s edge if she wasn’t careful. But instead of turning away from the dry gulch, it veered closer. Amber slammed on the brakes before the RV went too far, but the sudden stop popped the trailer’s tongue off the bucket, and she watched, aghast, as Russell’s writing cave bounced along the ground, away from her. She let out a squeak as it rolled over the edge, disappearing as though it had been pulled by an undertow.

  She jumped out of the machine and peered over the cliff. The trailer struck the rocky bottom as she watched, its thin walls shattering on impact, sending up a cloud of papers as its propane tank exploded, engulfing the debris in a massive ball of flame.

  Well then.

  With jellylike legs she patted the air beside her, seeking something to support her. This was definitely going to complicate things.

  * * *

  Amber sat on an outcropping of rocks, watching the flames consume what had been her ex-boyfriend’s writing room. Big clouds of black smoke billowed up from the valley below, sending birds flying in all directions.

  Now this was cathartic. She only wished she’d done it intentionally and that Russell had been here to see it all. She wanted him to know what he’d done to her, and to feel remorse—the kind that would keep him up at night. She wanted him to see what his little game of fame was costing her on a personal level.

  In reality, though, she hoped she never saw him again and that the whole world would forget about him and his book. She even dared hope that women who heard her story went out and burned Ember Unfolded in an act of woman-scorned solidarity.

  As the chill of the rocks beneath her seeped through her jeans, Amber wondered how she had ever managed to fool herself into thinking she loved Russell enough to turn a blind eye to all the little facts about him and his project that had never lined up enough to make her feel truly secure.

  A million revenge plots ripped through her mind as she thought of all the ways she’d allowed herself to be deceived. She struggled to focus less on the anger that was making her head hurt and more on calming down.

  Take in the mountainous solitude. The birds. The clouds. Breathe in, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four.

  What a prick! She couldn’t believe he’d done that to her. And so publicly.

  Stop it. Stop thinking. Breathe in. Breathe—what a complete fool she was! She hoped there had been some good stuff in the trailer. Stuff he’d actually miss, because he sure as heck wouldn’t be missing her now that his book was released. How had she fallen for—no. Focus on breathing. Breathe in, two, three, four.

  In the distance, fire trucks roared up the gravel road to the old ranch, clouds of dust whirling behind them similar to the smoke still billowing out of the gulch. Amber climbed down the outcropping, wrapping her arms around herself against the cool wind rolling down the mountains. She felt depleted, exhausted, and her mind refused to shut up about Russell and his betrayal.

  A police truck pulled up beside her, tires locking, and Amber’s best friend, Scott Malone, leaped out, looking so utterly relieved to see her safe that tears sprang to Amber’s eyes. Why couldn’t she fall for a man like him? Someone who cared deeply and didn’t betray her at every turn. Someone who was always there for her no matter what.

  She fell into Scott’s outstretched arms and he crushed her against him. He smelled of sunshine and Old Spice, and felt like everything good and safe. He released her and held her out in front of him. He was tall, broad, and as handsome as ever in his police uniform. And worried as all get-out.

  “Are you okay?” He gave her shoulders a light shake when she didn’t reply immediately.

  She nodded and he pulled her back into a hug so fierce she could barely draw in a breath without breaking a rib. She tapped his shoulder, an old wrestling move from gym class that told him he needed to ease up. He used to pin her down just for fun and his bulk had always been oddly comforting, but right now it was a bit too much.

  He held her in front of him once more giving her another look of assessment before tugging her close again, inhaling as he squeezed.

  “I saw Russell on the news,” he said, his voice laden with anger. “And then to get the call that there was a possible explosion and fire up here.” He finally released her, his jaw clenched so tight Amber was surprised he still had teeth.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you,” she said, her voice trembling. She wanted to snuggle against him once more, he felt so good, strong, comforting. In his arms she was safe, loved, unjudged.

  Firefighters had begun spraying water into the deep gulch, the droplets dispersing before they reached the flames. A few men prepped to rappel closer with hoses, opting to forgo a helicopter.

  “What happened?” Scott asked, taking in the scene.

  Heat rushed to Amber’s cheeks. How could she explain this to Scott, the cool, collected man who always did the right thing, dated the right women—women who went on to become beauty queens or mayors of neighboring towns? How could Amber tell him she’d foolishly trusted the wrong guy, then made a poor move while trying to rid her life of his possessions after he’d revealed the depth of his betrayal on national television?

  “Um…”

  “Why is there a backhoe?” Scott squeezed his forehead with his thumb and index finger as though trying to push away a headache. “Please tell me you didn’t do any of the things I’m thinking you did.”

  Amber gave her friend a pleading look. “It was an accident. I swear.”

  “An accident?”

  “Really. You have to believe me. I was mad—so mad, but I didn’t mean to do this.”

  Scott was quiet for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. “I’m going to talk to the firefighters. Stay here.”

  Amber watched him move, solid and in charge, the firemen turning as one to greet him.

  Having the fire team here was definitely not going to help make this whole situation with Russell and his book go away, as she wanted it to. There was going to be even more gossip to deal with once they told the story to the town.

  She probably should have run away. She eyed her aging car. Maybe it wasn’t too late. It was still packed from earlier.

  Scott rejoined her. “They don’t think there’s a risk of forest fire, but want to spray adjacent areas in case.” He crooked his neck so he was eye to eye with her. “You sure you’re okay?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. Of course she wasn’t okay. She was in the news. She’d been exposed as the heroine in a book her ex had written. She’d been deceived. And now she’d destroyed everything her ex had left behind. This wasn’t a typical breakup and things could get very messy if insurance didn’t cover heavy machinery whoopsies.

  “I saw the interview at noon and I know it’s hard—”

  “That’s what she said,” Amber said, twisting his innocent words into an innuendo—her fallback reaction when it came to deflecting attention from her frequent shortcomings. The last thing she needed was sympathy from her best friend seeing as his life was essentially the definition of perfect harmony.

  Her joke didn’t cause Scott to break into his usual smile. Instead, a fine line formed between his brows. “Are you done making light of this?”

  “It was an accident, okay? I slammed on the brakes when it was going too close to the edge, and the trailer’s tongue came off the bucket. I couldn’t catch it.”

  Scott studied her for a moment. “Not an accidentally-on-purpose incident?” His own arms were crossed, his eyes boring into her in a way that unnerved her. “Russell wasn’t very nice to you on TV. I could see how that might cause a desire for retribution.”

  Scott was baiting her for a confession. He was questioning her as an officer of the law. How dare he! They were best friends.

  “Don’t take that insinuating tone with me,” she said, poking him in the chest and then regretting it. The man ha
d to be wearing a flak jacket, as she’d just about busted her finger. “You know me. I would never intentionally engage in the destruction of another person’s property.”

  “I’m just doing my job. It’s nothing personal.”

  “I don’t think you could get less personal.”

  Scott’s jaw flexed, his expression unreadable. “I can’t allow my personal bias to interfere with an investigation.”

  “Investigation!”

  “Anytime there’s an explosion, the fire department is called and insurance may be involved, I have a duty to check things out.”

  Scott was so familiar, yet unexpectedly different. He was very much an authoritative man-in-charge instead of her goofy pal who always tried to make her smile. It still surprised her, after being in Blueberry Springs for almost a year, that her best friend was no longer that lanky kid she used to cause mischief with, but was now a respected member of the community, an officer of the law. She usually admired that, but right now she needed her friend.

  She sat heavily on one of the boulders that lined the driveway, wishing there was someone who understood.

  “Amber,” Scott said softly, his jaw working, his brow drawn low, “I have to know that you’re done with this stint of revenge. That you won’t hurt Russell. That you’re safe.”

  She jumped up, insulted that he would even have to ask—job or not. “You know me better than anyone else does. You know I won’t go after him and that this was all an accident.”

  Tears were threatening to spill over once more, so she stopped talking and sat again, facing away from Scott.

  “Amber, you’ve been through a lot today. It’s normal to crave payback.”

  “What I want is for everything to go away.”

  Sighing, Scott sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She tried to lean away, but ended up giving in, savoring his strength and the way his body felt against hers.

  They sat quietly for a few minutes, then Scott said, “It’s meat loaf night at Mom and Dad’s. You should join us.”

  Amber had joined them often enough to be considered one of the family, but tonight she needed some space to think—away from Scott and his new investigative side.

  “I think I should avoid town for a while.”

  “The community will side with you—you’re one us.”

  “I don’t want them to side with me, I want them to pretend nothing happened in my life over the past year. That Russell never existed.”

  The hurt and humiliation at what Russell had done seared through her once again. In a city, something like this was no big deal. It would be in the papers for a day or two, then drift away. But in a town such as Blueberry Springs, the fact that she was in a book would follow her forever. Add in that Russell had kept secrets from her, and she’d destroyed his well-known writing cave in return, and she was going to be the topic of some pretty hot gossip from now until she lucked out and an alien invasion overshadowed her life.

  “Amber…” Scott’s voice was rough.

  “You don’t understand.” Sudden anger ripped through her. There was no way a man like Scott could ever even begin to understand what she was feeling. “This kind of stuff will never happen to you. You date Wonder Women. You’re perfect. Kind.”

  Scott simply took her hand, leading her toward his truck.

  She slipped from his grip, softening the physical rejection by tentatively placing her palm against his chest, stopping him from herding her toward his vehicle. “People expect great things from you, and you pull through every time. You’re a perfect catch, Scott. A perfect man for any woman lucky enough to snag your affection. I truly hope you never understand what my day has been like, but don’t say you understand or that I’m overreacting.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Russell wasn’t…” She could see Scott fighting with the urge to say something unkind about her ex. “He didn’t deserve you. He never did.”

  Amber swallowed a lump in her throat, which she figured was the last of her pride. “I made myself try when a part of me knew all along that he wasn’t the real deal. I blinded myself to what was really going on.”

  How could she blame Russell for walking all over her when she’d all but put out a welcome mat? She’d known and yet she’d still hoped, like the foolish woman she was.

  Scott wrapped his hand around the one she still held against his chest.

  She tipped her chin up so tears wouldn’t fall, trying to be strong and brave—the kind of woman her best friend respected and didn’t pity.

  “Starting now, Amber Thompson’s eyes will be kept wide-open,” she said. “No more ignoring facts. No more surprises. No more secrets.”

  * * *

  A sedan pulled up the driveway and Amber walked outside, heading off Mary Alice and her sister, Liz, the town’s two biggest gossips. They were peering over the edge of the gulch at the tendrils of smoke. Gossip time.

  Amber had managed to dodge Scott’s meat loaf night offer and had spent the past half hour prepping herself for the inevitable onslaught of gossipers. She planned to downplay what had happened here and on TV. She would control the message and image they spread about her and her failed relationship with Russell.

  Easy.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she called, running her hands down the thighs of her jeans as she met up with them on the driveway.

  “Amber, hon.” Mary Alice pulled her into a massive hug, squeezing her against her massive bosom, a tin of mints digging into Amber’s collarbone through their jackets. The woman didn’t smell like herself without her usual cigarette scent, but she’d given it up after a medical scare earlier that year.

  Amber broke free, rubbing the sore spot. “Mary Alice, you have to stop carrying mints in your bra. You’re a danger to all that you hug and you hug aplenty.”

  Liz asked Amber, “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just a bruise,” she replied, rubbing the spot.

  “I meant…” Liz gestured to the cliff “…what happened?”

  “Oh, just a mishap,” she said dismissively. This was where she had to tread carefully. Anything she said to Liz could end up in the local paper, seeing as the woman wrote articles for them when she wasn’t working in John Abcott’s law office.

  “We brought you some food,” Mary Alice said, directing Amber to the sedan, which was hopefully loaded to the gills with chocolate. “We’ll feed you and get you feeling as right as rain again.”

  “Actually, I’m okay,” Amber replied.

  “I read Russell’s new book today,” Liz said. “But I really don’t understand you running his ‘writing cave,’ as he called it, over the side of the mountain. Seems a bit much.”

  It was a trap. Liz wanted her to defend herself and in the process tell her too much.

  “It was an accident,” Amber said carefully. “I was trying to move it for him.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Mary Alice said. “He put her in a book. All her private thoughts and dreams. Right there, exposed for the world.”

  Amber’s legs lost their strength. “All of them?”

  “And it’s okay that you love Sir Studly. I mean Scott. We’ve all known it for some time.” She patted Amber’s hand as though she was distressed—which she was.

  “I’m not—we’re not—we’re friends.”

  What had Russell said in his book? And why was Mary Alice referring to Scott as Sir Studly?

  “Oh, it’s really not a big shocker,” Mary Alice said. “Don’t worry, Amber. And his mother likes you just fine.”

  “But I—”

  “Now,” Liz said, eyebrows raised hopefully, “with Russell out of the picture and things out in the open about your feelings, are the two of you finally going to start dating?”

  “Actually, Liz, I wanted you to be the first to hear that we eloped earlier today,” Amber deadpanned, not quite believing the direction the conversation had gone. Scott was her best friend. Had they all lost their minds?

  “You did?�
�� Liz exclaimed, hands clasped over her chest.

  “She’s joking,” Mary Alice said, smacking her sister’s shoulder. “Come, dear.” She placed an arm around Amber. “Let’s feed you.”

  “I’m okay, really. Russell and I were never meant to be. Our breakup was mutual. We’re both going off in different directions right now. He’s an author and I’m… I’m, um…”

  She really should have stuck with her script.

  “That’s what everyone says after they’ve run their ex’s mobile office off the side of a cliff. You must feel as light as the mountain breeze right now,” Mary Alice chirped, pushing what looked like one of Benny’s chocolate maven pies into Amber’s hands.

  “Is this from Benny’s?” Amber asked, lifting the plastic lid. It was. Her mother had worked at Benny’s Big Burger since before Amber was born, having never used her beauty school training. Whenever Amber was down and out Benny’s chef, Leif, gave her a slice of chocolate pie and a tall glass of milk on the house. It was one of the best things about growing up in a small town.

  A “Whoop!” sounded behind them as they headed toward the house. Scott flashed his emergency lights in greeting.

  “What’s he up to? He’s going to be late for meat loaf night,” Mary Alice muttered. She raised her voice so Scott could hear. “It’s chocolate therapy time, honey. I’m not sure with that testosterone of yours that you’re equipped for this.”

  He grinned, but instead of joining them he called out his window, waving a stack of envelopes held by a rubber band. “Amber’s mail. Thought she might want it.”

  Liz snatched it from his hands. “Very thoughtful. Now get going. Your mother is waiting.”

  “You sure you don’t want to join us, Amber?” Scott asked, looking pointedly at the two sisters, who were determined to get her inside lickety-split so they could start pumping her for gossip.

 

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