Book Read Free

Be My Love Song

Page 1

by Sable Hunter




  Be My Love Song

  By

  Sable Hunter

  Madeline needs a hero. She hires an architect, Weston, to save Windswept and an escort to convince her meddlesome sister she has a boyfriend. Unfortunately, she gets them confused. Weston, like most heroes, will save the day. What’s he’s not expecting is to fall hopelessly in love.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Be My Love Song

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2015 © Sable Hunter

  Originally Published in

  Windswept: Stories of Enduring Love

  Published by Beau Coup Publishing

  http://beaucoupllcpublishing.com

  Cover by JRA Stevens

  For Beau Coup Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Chapter One

  “I need a hero…” Madeline hummed the 1980s song, singing a few words every now and then when she could remember them. “Holding out for a hero till something-something.” The tune wasn’t just stuck in her head, she really did need saving. In more ways than one. Holding out for a hero seemed hopeless because she certainly didn’t have knights in shining armor beating down her door.

  Windswept had stood guard over Galveston Island for well over a hundred years. Like a solitary spirit from days gone by, Madeline gazed out at the tumultuous waters of the Gulf of Mexico from atop the widow’s walk. The waves were angry, tossing and swelling, dashing to the shore only to rush back out for another chance to batter the sands. Screeches of gulls sang over the powerful constant roar of the ocean. It was never-ending, a ceaseless surge and flow, charge and retreat of blue green waters tumbling and frothing, iced with whitecaps that glinted in the winter sun.

  The breeze whipped Madeline’s hair around her face. A feeling of sadness caused her chest to ache. She hugged herself tightly against the chill. How many women had paced here over the years, waiting in vain for their lovers or their husbands to return to them? Maddie didn’t know if her melancholy was born from empathy to their plight or from her own sad situation. She wasn’t watching for a ship to appear over the horizon, Maddie wasn’t waiting for a lover to sail home to her. Love wasn’t on her horizon. She had so much love to give and nowhere to put it.

  Maddie Cross’s most precious possession was her home, now a Bed & Breakfast, an aging piece of real estate located on the west end of Galveston Island. And now her family, the people she should’ve been able to trust the most, were trying to take it away from her.

  Voices of her guests drifted up to where she hid, needing a few moments to herself. Valentine’s Day weekend was fast approaching and Windswept was booked solid. Plus, her sister was coming to visit. Oh, joy. Clutching her shawl, she enjoyed a few more moments of peace before the wildness of the day began.

  Too much was happening. Juliana Cross, her stepmother, was attempting to strong-arm Madeline into selling Windswept to a development company. Maddie knew the plans Beaumont Investments had for her home would not entail refurbishment but razing. The grand old Victorian that had survived the infamous 1900 hurricane would not withstand the ambitious plans of the wealthy beach developer who was systematically buying up properties around the world and turning them into generic cookie-cutter luxury hotels that could exist anywhere there was an ample tourist trade to support them.

  “Maddie! Miss Cross! I need you down here!”

  Madeline smiled and shook her head. Tilly was in charge of the front desk for the next week while Maddie dealt with her issues. Only the biggest problem she was having—was Tilly. Leaning over the banister, she looked down, down to the front entranceway and freaked out completely. “What are you doing?” She stared at her assistant, who was completely surrounded by rose bushes, unplanted rosebushes in five gallon buckets.

  “I ordered roses for the rooms.” She spread her hands, her eyes big with remorse, her blonde curls lying on her shoulder in perfect waves. “They must have misunderstood.”

  If Tilly wasn’t gorgeous, she would have a hard time in life. “I’ll be right down.” Honestly. Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, Madeline pulled out a phone and called the florist. “Sue, do you have roses to spare or are you completely sold out?”

  “Honey, the cupboard is bare. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

  “I thought I had, I guess there was a mix-up.” She sighed. “What do you have?” As she entered her private suite, Maddie’s eyes widened to see suitcases sitting by her door. When had this happened? Morgana wasn’t supposed to arrive for another four hours! Eek! Frantically, she glanced around. There was no sign of her and no cloud of expensive French perfume. Which meant her meddling half-sister was loose in Windswept and up to no good.

  The soothing colors of blue and beige which were supposed to make her private haven a sanctuary of peace and tranquility weren’t working. Madeline picked up a seashell and thought about hurling it against the wall, but all that would do was give her a mess to pick up. What she needed was sex. That’s what all the talk shows suggested. When a woman was under tremendous stress and upheaval, there was nothing better for her than multiple orgasms. Maddie wrinkled her nose and put a hand over her eyes. Since she didn’t have a man at her disposal, her trusty vibrator would have to do.

  She listened as Sue named over various bouquet alternatives she could choose from. Finally, she heard something that appealed to her. “Let me have the baskets of red and white cyclamen, I think that will do just fine.”

  “You got it. I’ll bring them over after lunch.”

  “Thanks.” She hung up and replaced the phone in her jeans. Pressing the elevator button, she waited the few seconds until the old faithful contraption rattled and quaked, finally opening in her face. “Good grief!” Instead of an empty chamber, she was met by her sultry vamp of a sister lounging against the wall looking bored and cranky. “You’re early.”

  “Thanks for the gracious welcome, Magpie.”

  Maddie stepped back to let Morgana pass. “You know I hate that nickname.”

  Her sister’s wide perfect smile appeared. “Of course I do, that’s why I use it. Besides, it fits you to a tee.” Letting her eyes glide scathingly up Madeline’s very average body, she drawled. “Plain, known to be a nuisance and chatters—like a magpie.” She ended with a knowing smirk.

  With a huff, she defended herself and the much maligned fowl. “I’ll have you know that magpies are reputed to be a very intelligent species. They’re right up there with chimpanzees and dolphins. They can even recognize themselves in a mirror!”

  Morgana rolled her eyes. “Impressive, except looking in a mirror is probably not your favorite pastime.” She slinked out to the middle of the floor and struck a pose. “Unlike me.”

  “Hold on.” Madeline ignored her sister’s thinly veiled insult while she phoned Tilly. “Have Hector put the roses in the storage shed next to the pool house. I’ll plant them in the east garden in a few days. I ordered flowers for the rooms.” Maddie paused to listen to her employee complain. “Don’t worry, the temporary girl will be here this afternoon. Just teach her how to check people in and out and answer the phone. You can handle everything else.” Watching her sister o
ut of the corner of her eye, she could see Morgana was texting someone. “Listen, I have to go. Would you have Betsy send us up some clam chowder for lunch? Good. Thanks.”

  “I’m on a diet, as well you should be,” Morgana drawled.

  “I like food.” Madeline picked up the suitcases and carried them to the spare room of her private suite. “Remember, we share a wall, so keep your television turned down at night. I need my sleep.”

  Morgana followed her. “I need my rest too. Sergio has been wearing me out.”

  “Please, spare me the sex talk.” She didn’t need to be reminded how active her sister’s love life was, not when her own was so lackluster. Growing up in Morgana’s shadow, she hadn’t stood a chance. Every boy who’d shown even the remotest interest in her had taken one look at her older sister and dropped Maddie like a hot potato. Of course, it didn’t help that her sister had taken a perverse pleasure in luring the suitors away. It had been Morgana’s favorite sport. One of these days…Maddie always dreamed, a guy would come along who could see the difference between fake and genuine—one of these days. But for now, Maddie wasn’t really trying. She had work to do, so she just fantasized, read love stories, and dreamed. “So, why are you here, Morgana?” She set the main valise on an ornate bench at the end of the bed and carried the makeup case to the adjoining bathroom.

  “I’m killing two birds with one stone. One of them is a magpie.” Morgana laughed at her own joke. “Sergio is sailing in from Cancún to take me out for Valentine’s on his yacht. I thought I’d come early and check on you. Mother has sent me on a mission of mercy. She wants me to try and talk some sense into you. Hugh Beaumont is very interested and he’s upped his offer, but he won’t wait forever.” Morgana pivoted on her stiletto heels, making a circular gesture with her well-manicured hand. “After we sell this monstrosity, you can move back home to take care of Mother. She doesn’t like to live alone and I am hoping to get a loft in Houston. I need more freedom.”

  She didn’t bother to point out that Juliana was Morgana’s mother, not hers, and that the society matron abhorred every moment she had to spend with her awkward stepdaughter—namely Maddie. “Juliana doesn’t need anyone living with her, she’s still young and has a house full of help. If you want to move out, I think you should.” Maddie joined the other woman next to the sleigh bed, suspicion growing. “What’s stopping you?”

  “You.” Morgan raised her arms over her head and pulled her hair up in a twist. “I need the money from my part of the inheritance.”

  “Morgana, you and Mother each received several million dollars when our father died, my main inheritance was Windswept. Why should I give up what I love?” Even as she spoke, it hit Maddie that they had gone over this argument so many times it was like a broken record.

  “Only fifty-one percent of father’s albatross belongs to you, the rest is mine and my mother’s. If you don’t want to sell, then buy us out at the same price the Beaumont’s are offering.” She threw her luscious mane over one curvaceous shoulder and turned her nose up to Maddie.

  Morgana’s referring to Windswept as her father’s albatross angered Madeline. “This home and this land is living history. I don’t understand why you can’t care more about your heritage and less about fashion or having a date three times a week!”

  Her sister snickered. “I’ll tell you why, because I’m normal and you are…an oddity. Several of mother’s friends think you might be a lesbian. I told them you aren’t a lesbian, you’re not anything.”

  “The term you’re looking for is asexual, which I’m not…” Maddie couldn’t claim she was sexual at the moment, so she sought in vain for another word. “I just haven’t had an opportunity, but I’m something,” she stated defiantly, then giggled, realizing how inane that sounded.

  Morgana didn’t argue. “You’re something all right, I’m just not sure what.”

  “Follow me.” Maddie motioned, feeling defeated. “I need tea.”

  “You need a man.”

  “Yea, I was thinking that same thing earlier, but you have to know that a ring on my finger is not a stamp of success.” Maddie insisted as she started opening cabinet doors and taking down tea bags and cups.

  “In our world, it is,” Morgana stated flatly. “Mother will probably remarry and I fully intend to marry as soon as I finish sowing my wild oats.” She gave Maddie a mischievous grin. “Look, Father was an eccentric. The Cross family were island people.”

  “BOI,” Maddie muttered. “As were you. Born on the island.”

  “Much to my chagrin.” Morgana elegantly sat down in a chair, frowning when Madeline plopped down in hers. “Look,” Morgana took Maddie’s hands, doing her best to be sympathetic, “Mother and I made some unfortunate investments in wind farms.”

  “All of your money is ‘gone with the wind’?” Madeline made the sarcastic question sound like an accusation as she poured hot water into their cups.

  “Don’t be an ass.” Morgana released Maddie’s hands when she pulled hard. “Mr. Beaumont is offering a fortune for this antiquated piece of driftwood. Plus…” Her sister smiled so big that Maddie’s mouth hurt just watching. “Plus…Hugh Beaumont has agreed to come here and meet with you. You could almost consider it a date!” She threw her hands together, clapping. Madeline felt sick.

  “I have no intention of meeting with Mr. Beaumont for a date or any other reason.” All she could think was that the Beaumont family must want Windswept a helluva lot.

  “Oh, why not? It’s not like you can get your own dates,” she said dryly, sipping tea.

  The knowing expression on her sister’s face made Madeline clench her fists, cutting into her own palms with her fingernails. Morgana was so vindictive. Every time she had come on to guys Maddie brought home from school or college came rushing back. How she’d flirted, teased, gone all out to make sure they were enraptured with her blatant beauty and sexuality. Before the poor men knew what had hit them, they’d been caught by Morgana—hook, line, and sinker. Madeline couldn’t compete. Morgana was like an iced petit four while she was a vanilla wafer.

  Well, blast-it-all! She was sick of it. “Actually, I have a boyfriend.” Hmmm. That lie came out fairly easily. While she was sitting there trying to look self-satisfied and pleased with herself, she was panicking inside. She and her big mouth. Making false claims that she had no way of backing up! What was she was going to do now?

  “Who is your boyfriend? What’s his name?” Her eyes narrowed, Morgana looked extremely skeptical.

  Name? Madeline racked her brain. “Uh, um…” Stumbling and stammering, she couldn’t stick two syllables together. Her sister had a disgustingly smug look on her face. At the moment, she couldn’t think of a convincing name beyond John Smith or Brad Pitt—neither of which would do. The only sensible sounding name she could bring to mind was one she’d been seeing in emails for the past couple of days. “West Rogers. My boyfriend’s name is Weston Rogers. He’s an architect that I asked to draw up plans to bring Windswept up to code. The island is requiring new standards for hurricane protection.” The false personal claim about this very real person just came spewing out before she could stop it. In her heart, she begged Mr. Rogers’s forgiveness for borrowing his identity. Thank God, he’d never know.

  “I thought this old mausoleum survived the biggest, baddest hurricane ever? Why worry about it now?”

  Morgana’s flippant attitude bothered Madeline. “Don’t joke. The 1900 hurricane you’re speaking of killed an estimated twelve thousand people. Yet it was only a category four. The beach has eroded, we are more vulnerable now than we were then. Preparing is smart and being enforced. If I can’t make these changes, I’ll have to close the Bed and Breakfast. And I certainly can’t let that happen.” This was a subject she felt passionate about. Maddie was so vehement in her defense, she forgot what they were arguing about. Until…

  “Shutting down Windswept would solve all our problems, especially if we could make a tidy profit in the process.
” When she saw Maddie was ready to argue more, Morgana held up her hand. “No matter. We’ll debate the wisdom of selling Windswept soon enough. Tell me about this boyfriend. How long have you been dating? When can I meet him?” Morgana crossed one long leg over the other and wiggled her foot at the ankle.

  Meet him? Heck! She was in a mess now. Maddie started to admit she’d made up the whole boyfriend claim. But she knew the moment she did, Morgana’s ridicule and insults would hit a new high. Somehow…somehow she had to convince her sister she had a real boyfriend. “You want to meet him?” Stall. Stall.

  “Of course I want to meet him. I want to see this boyfriend with my own two eyes.” Morgana’s tone was one of skepticism.

  Maddie grew flustered. How was she going to pull this off? There was no way she could ask the real Weston Rogers to dinner. Heck, she didn’t even know him. There was no way she could call him up and coerce Mr. Rogers into pretending to be her boyfriend. He was a professional.

  Professional! That was it! She’d hire someone! A professional. A professional escort. “He’ll be here for dinner tonight, Valentine’s Eve. You can meet him then.”

  Morgana didn’t look entirely convinced. There was doubt in her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Chapter Two

  The flowers had been delivered. All of the rooms were full of paying, happy guests and the cook had prepared a sumptuous meal for those who wanted to dine in. Romance was in the air.

  Madeline walked the lobby of Windswept, running a hand over the fine wood mantle which had once been part of the bow of a pirate ship. Her daddy loved this place and so did she. The B&B was blessed with a great reputation, a five star rating and had been reviewed in several major newspapers and magazines. Presidents had slept here, confederate soldiers had been cared for in the lobby, and the guestrooms had been filled with the homeless when surge waters had swept the island. This was her home. Her family wanted to sell it, pocket the money and live in the manner to which they were accustomed. Madeline disagreed, she wanted Windswept. She’d never be rich, but she was comfortable and content. Her family could do the same. If he were alive, Martin Cross would never sell Windswept and she wasn’t about to either.

 

‹ Prev