Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Also Available by Laura Trentham
Author's Note
LIGHT UP THE NIGHT
A Cottonbloom Novella
Laura Trentham
Praise for the Cottonbloom Series…
Kiss Me That Way (Book 1)
** Winner of the Stiletto Contemporary Romance Award!
** Finalist for the National Readers’ Choice Award
"At the heart of this wrong-side-of-town story are deftly drawn characters who understand that everyone has fears. Trentham layers the weight of family responsibilities throughout the well-paced story. The towns' competing festivals and quirky characters add humor and link the other romances in the series." Publisher's Weekly
"An engrossing novel of first loves and second chances...she manages to make each scene feel original, and keep her characters' journey compelling to the very end. Most impressive is the way she consistently refuses to make her heroine a damsel in distress, giving her the strength and self-assurance to deal with every surprise that arises, and to guide her strong but scarred hero into their very own happy ending." 4 stars RT Book Reviews
"The residents of Cottonbloom will steal your heart! You'll never want to leave!" 5 stars Red's Romance Reviews
Then He Kissed Me (Book 2)
**Named a Best Romance of 2016 by Amazon!
**Finalist for the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award!
"Trentham revels in challenging conventions, and her latest Cottonbloom novel is full of endearing twists on tropes that are sure to delight. Her setting, a small, divided Southern town, is full of vivid details and vibrant characters. Best of all are the two reunited protagonists whose outer facades belie a complex blend of sympathetic doubts, fears, and passion that make them, and their relationship, wonderfully unique." 4 stars RT Book Reviews
"Appealing protagonists, a heartwarming relationship, and descriptions so vivid one can feel the steamy heat and the river mud between their toes make this a perfect, lazy summer read." - Library Journal
"Trentham's handling of the big battles-class struggle, stalking, physical violence-is deft and personal, making for an easy read..." - Publisher's Weekly
"Do you like beta heroes? Read this book. Do you like second chance romances with sassy women and the quiet, but strong as hell men who love them? Read this book. Do you like small town romances that avoid saccharine and surrender to real? Read this book!" - Fresh Fiction
"This story focuses on the innocence of childhood, overcoming adversity, and how second chances do come around. Perfect for an afternoon read swinging in a hammock. You won't be able to put this one down until the last page. I HIGHLY recommend this book." - Book Review Crew, 5 stars!
"Who do I go to if I want to bestow a title on an author? Because with each new book this woman gifts to her fans and readers, the more I'm convinced that Laura Trentham is a small town romance writing genius. There wasn't anything I didn't love about Then He Kissed Me, so naturally, this 2016 favorite gets five-plus stars." - Dog-Eared Daydreams
Till I Kissed You (Book 3)
** Finalist for the Maggie Award
"Till I Kissed You, is highly recommended to anyone who loves second chance romances." 5 star, TOP PICK Harlequin Junkies
"If you are a lover of small town romances, with plenty of passion, humour, mystery and happy ever afters then this is a series not to be missed. I absolutely loved it and highly recommend. Five stars!" Foxalutely Book Review
"My friends, it's decided. I'm moving to Cottonbloom, the dual-state small town in Laura Trentham's summer Cottonbloom series. Why? Because, darn it, Trentham makes small town life seem CHARMING and FUN!" 5 stars - Imaginary Adventures of a Booknerd
"This book was Heart of Dixie meets up with Miss Marples. Everything about it hit my "happy reading spot" in my brain . From the setting to the dash of mystery to steamy live being rekindled. A read I'd recommend for the front porch armed with beverage in hand." 5 stars - United Indie Book Blog
"I highly recommend this series and especially this story to fans of Susan Mallery. I've found a new must read author and so will you once you read this story. A keeper book, and Keeper series!" 5 Stars, My Book Addition and More
Leave the Night On (Book 4)
** Named a Best Book of the Month by iBooks!
"Perfect for rom-com fans, Leave the Night On oozes with Southern charm and features a revenge-is-sweet plot. After discovering that her fiancé and best friend have been sleeping with each other, Sutton Mize pretends to have a fling with sexy mechanic Wyatt Abbott. But when real feelings get involved, the two question whether a society queen and the guy from the wrong side of the tracks can actually make it work. From pig pickings to gala events, we loved Laura Trentham's descriptions of quaint Cottonbloom, Mississippi." iBooks review
"I deeply enjoyed Leave the Night On, and look forward to spending more time with the Abbott boys (the next book centers on Jackson, for the record) and their true loves." B+ Review from All About Romance
"I savored the comfortable and easy flow to the writing style as well as the quirky characters and their colorful phrases. I want to go backward and read all the previous installments as well as every book this talented wordsmith has and will ever produce. Laura Trentham has a new fangirl." 5 Stars from Books and Bindings
Also Available by Laura Trentham
Contemporary Romance
Cottonbloom
Kiss Me That Way, Cottonbloom Book 1
Then He Kissed Me, Cottonbloom Book 2
Till I Kissed You, Cottonbloom Book 3
Candy Cane Christmas, Cottonbloom Novella
Leave the Night On, Cottonbloom Book 4
Falcon Football
Slow and Steady Rush, Falcon Football Book 1
Caught Up in the Touch, Falcon Football Book 2
Melting Into You, Falcon Football Book 3
Historical Romance
An Indecent Invitation, Spies and Lovers Book 1
A Brazen Bargain, Spies and Lovers Book 2
Coming Soon from Laura Trentham
When the Stars Come Out, Cottonbloom Book 5 (Jan 2018)
Set the Night on Fire, Cottonbloom Book 6 (Aug 2018)
I love to hear from readers! Come find me:
[email protected]
www.LauraTrentham.com
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NOTE: This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
LIGHT UP THE NIGHT
Copyright © 2016 by Laura Trentham
Cover by Talina Perkins, Bookin’ It Designs®
eISBN: 978-1-946-30600-5
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Excerpt from KISS ME THAT WAY copyright © 2016 by Laura Trentham
Excerpt from LEAVE THE NIGHT ON copyright © 2017 by Laura Trentham
For information address St. Martin’s Press
, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Chapter One
Thaddeus Preston read through the week-old e-mail one more time before laying his head on the back of his swivel chair and staring up at the pockmarked tiles of his office. It was good news, yet his insides turned cold and squirmy.
The probation board was meeting, maybe had already met, and chances were good his brother, Clayton, would be a free man. He’d have paid his penance in the eyes of the law. Unlike Thad. Sometimes he wondered if jail would have been easier than walking around knowing he owed more than he could pay.
He was on edge waiting for an update. Of course he would do whatever he could for his big brother. His recent promotion from deputy to chief of police of Cottonbloom, Mississippi, might make things a mite awkward, but he vowed not to let the town or his brother down.
“Chief?” Anna, one of his deputies, knocked on the metal doorjamb. “Everything okay?”
He shuffled paper around on his desk and blanked his features. He didn’t keep confidants at work. Or anywhere else, for that matter. “Fine. What’s up?”
“A house in Cross Hill Farm was busted into. The owner arrived home and found her back door jimmied open. Buzz responded to the 911 call.” She shook her head and tutted. “Such a nice neighborhood to be dealing with this kind of trouble.”
“Dammit,” he muttered, although he was relieved at the distraction. “I’ll head over now.”
“What about the council meeting tonight?”
“I’m only there as a deterrent for overzealous citizens. The hottest topic on the agenda this month is the recycling initiative. But if the mayor comes around asking, tell her I’ll be back in time.” He clipped a radio to his belt and put his hand out. Anna ripped the top sheet off her notebook, and he took it, ignoring her eye roll.
She never bothered hiding her exasperation with his businesslike shortness. With three teenagers at home, Anna was the one person who went toe-to-toe with him. Her whispered asides about him needing to “get some” might have garnered her an official write-up if she hadn’t been so good at her job—and totally right.
The static-filled voice of the dispatcher in his patrol car was as welcome as his favorite song. He missed the day-to-day activities of deputy. The not knowing what was next, being always on the go. Hell, he even missed the starched tan uniform. As chief of police, he was allowed to wear street clothes, which for him meant khakis and button-downs.
It wasn’t often he was called to a scene these days. Cottonbloom was hardly a hotbed of crime. Mostly domestic disturbances, driving under the influence, speeding. Armed robberies were rare, and murders were nonexistent in his tenure. The last had been well before his time and had involved a long-standing argument over a property boundary.
But that didn’t mean Cottonbloom was boring. In fact, as towns went, Cottonbloom was… quirky was a nice way to put it. Once a single town, it had split over fishing rights more than fifty years ago, becoming Cottonbloom, Mississippi, and Cottonbloom, Louisiana, the river marking the state boundary.
He relished the relative quiet and the ability to keep everything within his watchful eye and under his control. Memories of the chaos of his childhood in New Orleans closed in on him, his heart kicking at his ribs. His fingers ached around the steering wheel, and he forced them to loosen. He lowered his window and let the spring air wash over him.
He didn’t want to think about Clayton and New Orleans. Right now he wanted to concentrate on finding the perpetrator. There had been three reports of suspicious activity in the same neighborhood lately, but this was the first break-in. Cross Hill Farm was a new development of modest, trendy houses made up mostly of employees of Cottonbloom College.
Buzz’s patrol car sat at the curb in front of a cottage-style house with multicolored stacked stone and a porch just big enough for two white rocking chairs. He pulled in behind his deputy, grabbed a notebook and pen, and slipped his phone into his back pocket, keeping to the driveway so as not to disturb any evidence.
An old-school red Jeep Wrangler with a soft top sat in the driveway. Bumper stickers supporting gay marriage and gun control plastered the bumper. He took the porch steps two at a time. The thick wooden door was halfway open. Voices carried out the screen door, and he rapped on the metal frame. Buzz’s head popped out of a doorway at the end of a short hall, and he waved Thad in.
Thad’s rubber-soled work boots squeaked on the dark planked floor. A side table in the foyer was covered in jumbled-up mail, some opened, some sealed. A glance into the room on the right revealed an office. Books stood in towers like rock cairns marking a path to a desk with a closed laptop, papers stacked on either side, a few covering the floor. One tower of books had collapsed near the door, and he squatted to pick up the nearest one.
Freudian Theory and the Modern Man. Sounded boring as hell. He checked the paper Anna had given him. Professor Wren, psychology. The image of a new-age hippie who chose to wear tweed for ironic purposes flashed through his mind. The college was almost a little town in and of itself. It pumped new blood and money into the economy and only occasionally rocked the long-standing social mores of Cottonbloom.
He continued on, peeking in at a roomy, comfy-looking den with an overstuffed couch and wall-mounted flat-screen and found Buzz in the kitchen talking to a woman. Her curly black hair was shot through with a handful of dyed red streaks and tied in a low, messy ponytail with a matching red scarf, the ends slashing over her left shoulder. Both had coffee mugs.
The woman didn’t strike him as pretty in the traditional sense. Her eyes were big and some light color, blue or green. Her nose was thin, her mouth wide, and her chin sharp, but something about the way her features fit together had him unable to look away.
It was difficult to judge her height with her behind the table, but the hands that played with the ends of her hair were delicate and her shoulders narrow. She wore a ratty black Rage Against the Machine T-shirt, the thick strap of a sports bra showing where the shirt had fallen off one shoulder.
He tore his gaze away from her and assessed the kitchen. Blue-and-white tile and eyelet curtains over the sink window gave it an airy feel; the distressed kitchen table the woman sat at added a hint of rustic comfort. No one else was present except for Buzz, which given his excellent police skills, led to one surprising conclusion.
“Professor Wren?” His voice echoed his surprise. Normally he had no issues keeping his voice and face as bland as possible, but the woman looked like a student instead of a professor.
“That’s right.” She stood and stuck out her hand. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “You must be Chief Preston.”
How many times had he preached to his officers to avoid making assumptions about a situation or person? Every briefing. He’d gotten complacent and forgotten that people were unpredictable and surprising. Sometimes even in good ways.
His hand engulfed hers. She had a firm grip and didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. He was slipping and needed to get in the field more often. Thad had learned early on to use his size and naturally gruff manor to his advantage.
“Would you like some coffee? It’s a fair-trade brand. I get it from this cute little coffee shop in Jackson.” She didn’t wait for an answer but poured him a mug and held it out. The energy crackling around her seemed part natural and part nervous, although her tremulous smile made her eyes dance. Green eyes shot with gold now that he was close enough to determine. Not that he planned to include that fact in his report.
He recognized her type even if he didn’t understand it. Professor Wren had never met a stranger. That had been his brother’s attitude as well and one reason why he’d gotten mixed up with the wrong people. Not a mistake Thad planned to make.
His tentative first sip of the coffee sent his eyebrows up. It was a country mile better than the brownish sludge in the coffeepot at
the station. “It’s good.”
“Of course it is.” Her affronted tone was ruined by her open, easy smile. “I’m a coffee snob. I can get you guys some next time I make a run.”
Buzz’s lopsided grin was of the aw-shucks variety. “That’d be great, Sadie. My wife would—”
“We’re not here for the coffee. What’s the story, Buzz?” Thad cleared his throat and put the coffee mug down. How had his deputy and the professor progressed to first names in less than an hour?
Buzz wiped the smile off his face and pointed toward the back door. “Jimmied open with something wide and flat.”
“Screwdriver?”
“Something bigger, if I had to hazard a guess.”
Thad strode to the back door, opened it, and squatted down to inspect the extensive damage. Not only were there gouges where the perpetrator had worked the instrument between the frame and deadbolt, but the wood had been splintered as if chopped at in places. The door would be useless as protection from anything—even insects.
“Anything taken, Professor? Looked like the perpetrator might have roughed up your office looking for something.” Still in a squat, he pivoted toward where she had shuffled closer, only her fidgety hands betraying her nerves.
“Call me Sadie, please.” A blush tinged her cheeks, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Buzz asked me the same question. But, no. Nothing else looks touched. Apparently, my office always looks like it’s been ransacked by a burglar.”
Thad rose to his feet, and she tilted her face to follow him. He wanted to smile but managed to stop himself at the last millisecond. “And the pile of mail in your entry?”
“Mostly junk. I probably should cull through it, but… you know.” She shrugged.
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