LOST & FOUND
Books 1-3
by Elizabeth Lynx
Cabin Fever and Living Hell - Copyright © 2019 by Elizabeth Lynx.
Burning Love - Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Lynx.
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 em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
[email protected]
http://www.elizabeth-lynx.com
Cover design by Elizabeth Lynx
Photography by fxquadro
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
FIND ELIZABETH LYNX
ELIZABETH LYNX BOOKS
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CABIN FEVER
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
LIVING HELL
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
BURNING LOVE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
BONUS SCENE
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Funny. Kind of ridiculous. Always sexy as hell books.
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ELIZABETH LYNX BOOKS
Pick and choose which funny, sexy Elizabeth Lynx book scratches your reading itch.
KINDLE UNLIMITED: Cabin Fever * Living Hell * Burning Love * Lost & Found Box Set * Dating Disaster with a Billionaire
ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS: Cabin Fever * Idol * Burning Love * Rules of Payne
SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE: Hot Dish * Living Hell * The Attraction File * Happy New You
SUPER WEALTHY/BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: Dating Disaster with a Billionaire * Surprising the Billionaire with a Baby * Hot Dish * One Wild Ride * Royal Disgrace * Mogul
OFFICE ROMANCE: Surprsing the Billionaire with a Baby * The Attraction File * Mogul * Rules of Payne
SINGLE PARENT ROMANCE: Dirty Secret * The Spy Ring * Burning Love * Surprising the Billionaire with a Baby
MISTAKEN IDENTITY: Dating Disaster with a Billionaire * Surprising the Billionaire with a Baby * Idol * The Spy Ring * Royal Disgrace
ACCIDENTAL MARRIAGE/FAKE FIANCEE: The Spy Ring * Living Hell
CELEBRITY ROMANCE: Dating Disaster with a Billionaire * Idol * Star * Living Hell * Royal Disgrace
PLAYBOY: Mogul * The Attraction File
SMALL TOWN ROMANCE: Dating Disaster with a Billionaire * Surprising the Billionaire with a Baby * Idol * Star * Mogul * Cabin Fever * Living Hell * Burning Love * Hot Dish
BIG CITY ROMANCE: Royal Disgrace * Dirty Secret * Happy New You * Rules of Payne * The Attraction File * One Wild Ride * The Spy Ring
SERIES BOX SET: Cake Love * Price of Fame * Lost & Found
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Make sure you get the BONUS SCENE about Mica & Bea’s Wedding + SNEAK PEEK at my upcoming release, Hot Dish, when you sign up for my free author newsletter à https://geni.us/LostFoundBonus
CABIN FEVER
Have a destination wedding, they said. The mountains are so romantic, they said. They’ve obviously never been a runaway bride.
Olivia Love has it all. She’s rich, spoiled, and about to marry the man of her dreams—until she witnesses her fiancée with someone else, sending her on a little run. Down the side of a mountain. In her wedding dress.
When she finds a cabin in the woods, her relief is short-lived at discovering it to be empty. No phone, no heat, and no way back to her perfect little life. That is until a gun-toting mountain man fills the space and sends her heart rate skyrocketing.
Carter Fitzwilliam likes the simple things in life. His sheep farm, his privacy, and man’s best friend are all he needs until a smart-mouthed beauty in a white dress breaks into his cabin and threatens to complicate the hell out of everything.
Will these two opposites attract or push each other over the mountain?
ONE
Olivia
"There it is again." I pushed my back against the solid and, hopefully, blood-thirsty-animal-proof front door. Despite the thunderous thumping of my heart, I kept my ears perked until I heard a click.
Never had I believed the clank of a doorknob snapping into the frame would sound delicious, calming, and triumphant all at the same time. If I could make out—using tongue, of course—with this door, I would. But there'd be splinters and that wouldn't be fun.
I wasn't what most people would call gutsy. My usual response was to run. If running wasn't an option, then find something to throw. I once encountered a spider. The nearest thing to me was a book of matches. I contemplated burning down the house, but my sister stopped me before the matches were in my hand. That bathroom had been dead to me ever since.
The wild, guttural cries that drove me to hobble with surprising speed into the cabin started back up. They sounded muffled now, farther away.
"Good door." I patted the wood, then attempted to hug the entrance in apprec
iation.
The air was crisp, despite having a roof over my head. My breath was a lingering fog as I exhaled with relief.
Don't people use heat here in the mountains?
Allowing my legs to give, I slid down the door. For the first time in hours, I sat. My knees creaked, and I winced from a shooting pain in my left leg but sitting my butt on the mud-stained wooden floor felt glorious.
Olivia Jane Holiday Love, you are safe.
I reveled in letting my limbs throb from spending a good part of the day trekking through a mountain. Looks like I won't need to exercise again for at least a decade.
Steam rose from the grimy lace that covered my chest as I tugged at the large pink parka I grabbed before racing out of The Lodge this morning. I rubbed the delicate fabric and gasped. "It's gone."
My engagement ring. Hot tears laid a trail down my cheeks as I remembered yanking at the ring in anger and leaving it right next to my purse. I had no money, no cell phone, and no fiancé.
It was all my fault.
"Damn it. What have I done?"
I knew exactly what I had done. There was no lying to myself. I had destroyed my life, possibly ruined my family's lives, and opened a hornets' nest of chaos so big I'd probably become a legend back in DC—and not the good type of legend, either. No. My tale would spread with hushed tones, secretive whispers, and wide eyes.
Did I have a choice? Yes. But I didn't have to run.
I wiped at my tears of shame and anger. My fingers covered in a filthy wetness. Laughter bubbled up from my throat. "Did you really believe Derrick loved you, Olivia? Like attracts like, as my father always said. Derrick was handsome. More than handsome . . . he looked like a runway model."
I hiccupped and lifted two fingers in the air. "And number two. Wait. Was I counting?" I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. Number two. Derrick was smart." My dad told me how he worked his way up from the mailroom to be distribution manager of my father's company, Love Foods.
"That brings me to number three," I lifted my middle finger, "everyone loved Derrick." Well, everyone but my sister, Bea. "He's the life of the party and the friend who would be there when you needed him."
I once saw him cradle a squirrel in his palm. It was in shock from almost being run over. Then with gentle ease, Derrick placed the creature on the grass.
"He's a freaking animal savior for God's sake! How did I react to animals? I ran screaming and hid in some stranger's home. Only to plop my dirty butt on their floor and start a conversation with myself.
"And last, but never least, Olivia, you have a unique ability to pick men that use you and never really love you. Some may call this ability a superpower if superpowers were abominable."
I let out a sigh and wallowed in the mess of my own creation for a moment. Then I looked up and faced the fact that I was in someone else's home.
"Hello?"
With a wince and a breath, I stood from the floor. With a quick scan of the sparsely furnished room, I did my best to brush the dirt from my white gown and brightly colored coat.
I took a step farther into the room. It smelled of pine, a spicy lavender scent, and a hint of smoke.
"Mental note, think of going into the fragrance industry. I will call my first scent Cabin Fever."
That was a good idea. Perhaps there's some stationery and a pen somewhere so I could jot the idea down.
There was a wood-burning stove immediately off to my left, cold and unlit. Along the wall next to it was a kitchenette. The cabinets, the counters, almost everything made of the same wood as the cabin itself. The only thing not made of wood was the porcelain farmhouse sink.
In the middle of the room was a small, square table with two wooden chairs. I knew cabins were meant to be rustic, but it looked like an oak and a walnut tree had an inappropriate relationship.
"Is anyone here?"
There was only silence . . . and wood. Lots and lots of wood.
Did someone even live in this place?
As much as I had no desire to piss off the owner of this home, I didn't want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere alone, either.
Maybe they're out for the day. I turned to gaze through the small window by the door. The sun was disappearing behind the trees. It must be late in the afternoon. If the person who lived here went out earlier, perhaps he or she would return soon.
Then what do I say? Hi there! I hope you don't mind, but I broke into your house because I thought a pack of killer animals were after me?
I was almost sure that the person would think I was crazy and call the police.
At least if the authorities were contacted, I could go home. But did I want to go home?
No. Not really.
"Great, Olivia! Make up your mind. Do you want to be found or do you wish to remain lost?"
I rubbed at the tiny crease that rose between my eyes, willing for a clarifying answer. Nothing came.
A few strands of my golden hair stuck to my mouth as I shook my head. "Focus. Need to find someone or something to help me. Maybe there's a phone here."
And yes, I do talk out loud in times of stress.
Raising my chin, I limped toward the back of the cabin and noticed two doors.
There was no response when I knocked on the door to my left. Slowly, I turned the handle and pushed. A clean, empty bathroom was inside. One toilet, pedestal sink, mirror cabinet, and a white claw-foot tub. The décor: wood, naturally.
Opening the cabinet, I found it was empty. Not even a forgotten toothpick was left behind. The reality that the owner wasn't a minimalist but actually nowhere to be found was becoming heart-crushingly clear.
The other room might contain signs of a person inhabiting this cabin. Anything to let me know a person was here recently. But as I left the bathroom and opened the room across the hall, reality sunk in. This small bedroom with a bed frame, double mattress, dresser, and no sheets or clothing to be found was a bitter slap in the face.
I was alone.
That's okay. It's a cabin. I had shelter from the elements. There should be something here to keep me warm. Maybe discarded wood I could throw in the stove for heat. I'd never created a fire before, not even when I went camping with my friends in high school. We had servants for that.
It couldn't be that hard to start a fire, though. Just wood and a match.
I made my way farther into the cabin and discovered a back door. There's always chopped wood neatly stacked along the outside of the house in movies. I'll check outside. The floor underneath me creaked as I unlocked and pulled the door open. I stiffened when I heard the terrifying cries of the wild beasts again.
Slamming it shut, I twisted every bolt and lock on the door. In case all five of them failed, I grabbed a chair from the dining area up front and ran back to wedge under the doorknob. The wood could wait until later.
The chilled air might do me some good. My mother had a winter wonderland themed New Year's party where there was an ice sculpture garden. Even former president William Higgins showed up and commented that the brisk walk helped him feel revitalized. Maybe it would help me, too. I could use some revitalization!
I was secure in this cabin, had a mattress to sleep on, and I could huddle up into my coat to keep warm. What more did a woman need?
My stomach rumbled. Food. Apparently, I needed food.
I hadn't eaten since early this morning. Perhaps that small kitchenette had something that could see me through the night.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way toward the front to the small kitchen. Five cabinets. I opened every one. Nothing.
"Oh God, I'm going to die here."
My breathing picked up. It felt like I was losing oxygen despite my rapid breath.
I was an idiot. Who runs from their wedding during the middle of winter in the mountains of Maine in a wedding dress?
"Why didn't I take Bea up on her offer last night? I could be warm on a beach in St. Croix right now. But I hadn't found out the truth about Derrick yet. Now I'l
l never see my loving and slightly crazy sister again!"
Because I thought marriage to a man I believed loved me would make me happy. I learned my lesson. Love doesn't equal happiness. In fact, it made life terrible.
I spit on the floor and instantly regretted it. This wasn't my home. How barbaric to invade a residence and spit? What came over me? Just last week I gave the stink eye to my cousin Kiki for adding milk to her teacup before pouring in her tea. In my defense, Kiki was a bit of a black sheep. The best way to describe her life was sloppy.
I was ashamed of my actions then, but now I was horrified about how I was treating this stranger's home.
It was to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, the day had fevered my brain and turned me into an uncouth beast—much like the ones trying to gain access to my wooden tomb. I fell to my knees and didn't even care about the stabbing pain in my leg. Monsters were supposed to live in agony. I might as well get used to it.
Hungry, cold, and so very alone, I cried. "This is officially the worst day of my life."
Totally beating out the day, five years ago, when I was twenty-three and Sarah, the chef, was not in the kitchen. I was hungry, so I found a round piece of food on the counter. I figured it was fruit despite the funny smell and after peeling it, I took a bite. That was the day I learned what an onion looked like.
Wiping the tears from my face, I was surprised there were any. I figured I was too dehydrated to produce them.
"I could melt the snow outside to drink if I could only get outside without being attacked."
I leaned my head against the edge of the open cabinet and saw a glimmer out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I reached inside and felt something hard. Using the minuscule amount of energy I had left from my starved body, I pulled it out.
Lost and Found (books 1-3): Small-Town Romantic Comedy Page 1