Sweet Escape (Sugar Rush #2)
Page 26
Until she saw Polly again, she continued to travel alone. She went to Italy, though the earthquake happened before she made it to Assisi. From there, she boarded a train to Munich and then Vienna, where she stayed for several days.
She visited various cafés and sampled a decadent cake, warm apple strudel, chocolate hazelnut pudding, and vanilla cookies. Evan would definitely choose the Sachertorte, a chocolate sponge cake layered with apricot jam and topped with dark chocolate ganache, as his “perfect” Viennese dessert.
As the weeks passed, she heard from Polly that Evan’s recovery continued to be smooth and uneventful—exactly what they had all hoped for and what the doctors had anticipated given Evan’s youth and overall excellent health. He was busy with cardiac rehabilitation and a new position at Sugar Rush.
Hannah was happy to hear all of that. She only wished she could be there with him. She’d always been a solo traveler, intrepid and fearless. But for the first time, she felt as if the world was too big for her. As if she needed another hand to hold.
After Vienna, a series of emails led her back to India at the invitation of Rajiv and Amrita, the young couple whose wedding she had attended five years ago. Her Lock Heart blog post about the wedding remained one of her favorites, as she’d been genuinely delighted to join the festivities. She’d loved everything about the Hindu wedding, from the jewel-toned saris to the intricate henna mehndi, the sacred rituals, and the reception laden with food and joyful bhangra music.
The warmth extended to her by the families continued during her visit, where she found the couple living close to both their parents with Rajiv working at a network services company near Delhi. They had two young children, a boy and a girl who kept Amrita and her mother-in-law busy.
Hannah took pictures of the gorgeous, black-eyed children, of their teatime and family meals around the dinner table. She went with them to a cricket match, accompanied Amrita during her daily shopping, and played with the children. She gave the girl, Kamala, the wooden elephant Evan had whittled.
Love wound through everything the family did, even if it was expressed in subtle ways. Amrita buying a packet of Chiclets for her daughter and pouring her husband’s tea. Rajiv asking for his wife’s opinion and bringing her a jasmine flower to wear in her hair. The grandmothers’ endless stream of advice about the children and housekeeping. Amrita’s mother-in-law giving her a new type of coconut oil.
With their consent, Hannah wrote a follow-up post called After the Wedding, in which she wrote about the daily lives of this family who had been formed by a traditional ritual.
This is what happens next. They live, love, grow, and change together.
She emailed Elaine Miller of Franklin Publishing, asking if she’d still accept a revised manuscript.
Yes, definitely, Elaine replied. Just let me know when to expect it.
Hannah went to Copenhagen next and immersed herself in the city Evan loved. She found a cheap apartment, rented a bicycle, squeezed into crowded basement bars with crackling fires, visited museums, shopped at flea markets, and took photos of the winding canals and elegant townhouses.
Between her explorations, she wrote a new proposal for a book about the real-life stories beyond the world’s love traditions.
She wanted a new avenue for her blog as well. She would no longer report about love. She would write about the people who both celebrated joy and weathered storms together.
I have spent ten years writing about the ways people around the world commemorate love. Only now do I realize that I’ve neglected the single most important part of all those customs. I haven’t written about love itself—its complexities, meaning, shadows, and importance. I haven’t talked about what brings two people together and why they fall in love. I haven’t written about how love makes you feel because I had never experienced it for myself.
But now, for the first time in my life, I know how thrilling, frightening, and exhilarating it is to fall in love. I know what it feels like to sit in contented silence with a man. I know a desire that breaks open thunderclouds. I know butterflies and breathless laughter. I know the song a heart in love sings.
How did I know I was falling in love with him? When telling him my secrets was like being caught in free-fall by the universe. When he put his hand on the back of my neck, and I knew I was not alone. When he kissed me, and I felt as if I had come home. When my heart started beating in time with his. When I wanted nothing more than to stay with him forever. When he became my world.
How did you know you were falling in love? What did it feel like? How did you meet and where are you now? Why do you love your partner?
It’s your turn, my dear readers. Tell me your love stories.
After publishing the post on Lock Heart, she refocused on her book proposal, and when she logged on to her blog two days later, dozens of reader responses filled the comments section.
Hannah scrolled through them, both astonished and delighted by not only the stories, but the fact that they came from all over the world—Australia, Mexico, France, England. There were stories from couples who were childhood friends, who’d met at school, on blind dates, at work, by sheer chance. A reporter and a cop. A musician and a bartender. A rekindled old flame. An arranged marriage that turned into love. A World War II nurse and an army officer. A foreign exchange student and a taxi driver.
Hannah posted a message of thanks, adding that she would read and respond to all of the stories soon. With the new incentive, she quickly finished her revised proposal for Franklin Publishing.
TO: Elaine Miller (e.miller@franklinpublishing.com)
FR: Hannah Lockhart (hannah@lockheart.com)
Elaine, thank you for allowing me more time to complete my proposal, which I have attached. With a new angle on true life love stories, I suggest the title be Locked Hearts.
All the best,
Hannah Lockhart
She hit the send button and walked to the nearest café for a coffee and a cherry-chocolate kringle.
*
Comment posted by: Anonymous
Dec. 2, 8:56pm
My love story starts with a broken heart.
A heart that never formed correctly, one that will always be damaged and defective. A heart that has to be watched and sometimes feared.
But it’s my heart, the only one I’ll ever have. Maybe I’ve always guarded it too closely, like a wounded animal, scared that allowing it to feel too much would cause greater damage.
Then I met her. She has an incredible, perfect heart. One filled with wonder, loyalty, and a wild sense of adventure.
I wanted her badly. I thought I could have her for a short time, that it would be fun and casual, and that my heart wouldn’t get involved.
Yeah.
When did I start falling in love with her?
When my heart started doing all sorts of good things it had never done before.
When she told me her secrets.
When I told her mine, and she didn’t flinch.
When I kissed her.
When she brought me a Declair from her secret stash.
When I couldn’t wait to see her again.
When she baked a cake.
When she put her hand on my chest.
When she laughed.
How does she make me feel?
Like my heart is whole.
Why do I love her?
Because she’s bold and brave.
Because she cares right down to her soul.
Because she has eyes the color of a turquoise sea.
Because she tried a Sparkle Pop for me.
Because she doesn’t give up.
Because she’s as sweet and delicious as a Sahnehäubchen.
Because she makes me believe in happy endings.
All the sexy things I’ll never tell anyone but her.
Because when I’m with her, I see hearts everywhere.
Treasure hunt clues:
Latitude: N 35 31 55.899
Longitude
: W 120 42 20.617
Die Brücke
2:00am GMT, xxvii, studeni
ILY
Chapter
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hannah’s plane landed at SJC shortly after noon. A month had passed since she’d left Rainsville, but it felt as if it had been much longer. She rented a car and drove the hour and a half to Indigo Bay. An electric, nervous excitement simmered through her.
As she navigated the Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean stretched out beyond the sand dunes like a bucket of spilled blue paint. Sunlight glittered on the water, and people walked along the beaches clad in windbreakers and jeans.
She had always thought of the world as big. It was filled with widespread seas, golden deserts, mountains stretching toward the sky. There were always new places to go, countries to visit, things to see. She could travel her whole life and not see it all. She’d gotten lost in the world countless times.
But not until Evan Stone loved her had Hannah ever been found.
Close to Indigo Bay, she turned east toward Rainsville. The landscape changed to stretches of farmland and low rolling hills, the charm of the seaside fading into the background. Wild Child had closed for the day, and Hannah parked in the alley behind the bakery. She let herself into Polly’s old apartment, where she showered and changed into the blue dress she’d worn on her and Evan’s boardwalk date.
At five minutes to six, she drove downtown and parked on Main Street. Her nerves jumped and danced. She looped her satchel over her shoulder and walked to Rainsville Park. A few children played on the playground, their parents standing watch nearby. An older man walked his dog on the path.
Everything was the same as Hannah remembered it, but brighter, clearer, as if she were viewing it all through a prism that enhanced all the good.
The Shingle Mill Bridge arched over the narrow creek, the wood worn and cracked from the sun. She crossed the bridge and stopped in the middle. Water splashed over smooth rocks below, wandering south to join the watershed.
A glint of silver caught her eye. A padlock was attached to the railing of the bridge. Her heart did a crazy kind of twirl she’d first felt two months ago—the moment when Evan’s lips had first touched hers.
She took the padlock in her hand. It was smooth silver, engraved with a heart and the initials H and E. A key was still inserted into the lock. She twisted it, securing the lock to the bridge.
“You still owe me $8.56, Lockhart.”
Hannah turned at the sound of Evan’s voice. Her soul filled with more colors and light than existed in the world. He approached from the other side of the bridge, still thinner but no less beautiful in jeans and a navy blue, button-down shirt that made his eyes look like the ocean.
“I’ll write you a check,” she said.
“Or you could kiss me.”
Hannah smiled, her hand tightening on the railing as she restrained herself from running to meet him. She wanted to look at him, reacquainting herself with the lines of his body, the strong planes of his face, his well-shaped mouth and thick eyelashes.
“You figured it out.” He stopped a few feet from her.
“Your use of the Julian calendar threw me off for a while,” she admitted. “But the rest of it was easy.”
“It was supposed to be. I don’t…” He paused and cleared his throat. “I don’t want this to be difficult. Other things are difficult. We need to be easy.”
“Oh, you’re easy, Heartbreaker,” Hannah murmured.
A smile tugged at his mouth. She took a wooden object out of her satchel and held it out to him.
He ran his fingers over the coarse wooden spoon, engraved with a rough design of a heart, a lock, and an anchor.
“You carved this?” he asked.
“Carved is a rather subjective term, I suspect,” Hannah said. “But yes. Welsh sailors used to carve lovespoons during their long journeys, which is why anchors were often part of the design. And since being away from you was a very long journey…”
He slipped the spoon into his breast pocket, right next to his heart, and extended both his arms. Tears stung Hannah’s eyes as she moved forward.
And then his arms closed around her in a strong, secure circle. She had come home. She breathed in the cedar scent of him and pressed her face to his shirtfront, hearing and feeling the beat of his everlasting heart.
“It’s lonely in the world without you,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I don’t want to be lonely anymore. I don’t want to be without you anymore either.”
“I love you.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, tightening his hold on her. “And I don’t want you to give up the things you love because of me.”
“You are the thing I love.”
A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I mean travel, writing, and photography. Your need for adventure and experiences.”
“None of that matters anymore, Evan. I just want you.”
“I want you too. But it all matters to me because it’s part of what makes you who you are.” He pulled away to look at her, his warm gaze tracking over her face. “And I’m crazy about every part of who you are.”
Hannah wiped her eyes. “So what are we going to do? I don’t want to go, but you won’t let me stay…”
“I’m hoping we can do both.” Uncertainty flickered in his expression as he held both her hands. “We’ll go and we’ll stay.”
“How?”
“I need to live in Indigo Bay,” Evan said. “My family is here, and I worked out an arrangement with Luke and Adam to do exactly what I want to at Sugar Rush. I have a ton of ideas I want to implement, and I know it’s going to take the company in a new direction. But I also have my doctor’s okay to travel occasionally, with certain conditions. I can’t do everything you can, and I can’t spend weeks away from home, but we can start with Europe and see where it leads us. If you’ll come back here with me.”
“Evan, I’ll go anywhere with you.” Hannah tightened her hands on his. “I’ll stay anywhere with you.”
“You know it’s…” His throat worked with a swallow. “It’s a risk being with me. I’ll do everything in my power to live a long, healthy life, but there are no guarantees.”
“There are no guarantees with anyone or anything.”
“If you need to travel for your blog or any other reason, and I can’t go with you, then I still want you to go. For a week or two, however long you need to. And when you come home, I’ll be here waiting for you. I don’t want you to miss any adventures.”
“Evan.” Hannah untangled her fingers from his and put her hand on his cheek. “You are my adventure.”
The faint tension in his shoulders eased. He turned his head to press his lips against the center of her palm.
“I love you, Lockhart.”
“I love you, Heartbreaker.” She brushed her thumb across his jaw, thrilling in the knowledge that she now had the right to touch him as much as she wanted. “Though I’m really glad I bid fifty thousand dollars on you, you’re worth so much more. You’re my gold at the end of the treasure hunt.”
Evan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “This treasure hunt doesn’t end with gold.”
“What does it end with?”
“I told you there’s always a kiss at the end.”
And so there was. A perfect kiss.
*
Thank you so much for reading Hannah and Evan’s story!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Nina Lane writes hot, sexy romances and spicy erotica. Originally from California, she holds a PhD in Art History and an MA in Library and Information Studies, which means she loves both research and organization. She also enjoys traveling and thi
nks St. Petersburg, Russia is a city everyone should visit at least once. Although Nina would go back to college for another degree because she’s that much of a bookworm and a perpetual student, she now lives the happy life of a full-time writer.
www.ninalane.com
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I owe my deepest gratitude to the people who have helped me bring Evan and Hannah’s story out into the world.
Thank you, Cathy Yardley, for never failing to help me with story structure and character goals. Thank you, Stacy Jerger, for your amazing ideas and incredibly perceptive critique that helped me blast through the story wall. Thank you, Jessa Slade, for your sharp analysis and for always helping me stay true to my characters. Thank you, Lea Ann Schafer, for suggesting ways to improve both character and plot. Thank you, Kelley Heckart, for your thorough copyediting, and Tiffani Drake for your eagle-eyed proofreading.
Thank you, Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear Creative Covers, for the beautiful cover; Paul Salvette of BB eBooks for the rock-solid formatting, Christine Borgford of Perfectly Publishable for the gorgeous paperback; and Wander Aguiar for the cover photography.
And a huge dankeschön to Astrid, Sandra, Karen, and Chantal as well as my phenomenal beta readers MJ Fryer, Yesi Cavazos, and Debbie Kagan. You are the Sahnehäubchen on this book. (if that makes no sense, I take full blame)
As always, thank you to my very loyal readers for your ever-present love and support.
ALSO BY NINA LANE
THE SPIRAL OF BLISS SERIES
“Give me a kiss, beauty.”
The intense, erotic romance of a medieval history professor and the love of his life…
AROUSE: Book One
ALLURE: Book Two
AWAKEN: Book Three