Loving the Chase (Heart of the Storm #1)

by Sharla Lovelace

  “This probably doesn’t go with your outfit, but—”

  “Zach—” she gasped.

  “This is the closest thing to my heart that I can give you until I put a ring back on your finger,” he said. “This was our life.” Zach took it off and put it over her head, and she gripped the nail in her fingers.

  “To the old and the new,” she said.

  “The old and the new,” he said.

  “The raw and the gritty,” she said.

  He smiled and found her lips with his again. “The best usually is.”

  Maddi Marie’s Special Super Duper Lemon Supreme Foo Foo Bars

  2 cups sifted all-purpose flour

  1 cup confectioners’ sugar

  1 cup unsalted butter, melted

  4 eggs

  2 cups white sugar

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ¼ cup all-purpose flour

  ⅝ cup lemon juice (can mix lemon and lime)

  Directions:

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and grease a 9-by-13-inch pan. In a medium bowl, stir together 2 cups sifted flour and the confectioners’ sugar. Blend in the melted butter. Press into the bottom of the prepared pan. Bake in the preheated oven for 15 minutes or until golden.

  In a large bowl, beat the eggs until light. Combine the sugar, baking powder, and ¼ cup of flour so there are no flour lumps. Stir the sugar mixture into the eggs. Finally, stir in the lemon juice. Pour over the prepared crust and return the pan to the oven. Bake for an additional 30 minutes at 350 degrees F, or until the filling is set. Allow to cool completely before cutting into bars.

  Enjoy the yum!

  Acknowledgments

  I’m a Southern girl. If you’ve read my books and followed me around the Internet at all, you already know this. If this is your first rodeo with me, then hello! I’m so glad you’re here! Do you like comfort food and sweet tea? Coming right up.

  What you might not know about me is how much I love a good storm. Growing up in Southeast Texas, forty-five minutes from the Gulf of Mexico, we get a few. And growing up in an old part of town, we lost power. A lot. I took a drawing class in college once where we had to draw a childhood memory. I drew a table full of candles and storm lanterns next to an open front door. We were always right outside that door, sitting on the porch, watching the storm blow down the street because the air conditioner was out and it was too hot to sit in the dark house. Mom and Dad probably hated every minute of it and were thinking about things like meat thawing out in the freezer and the milk going bad. I was just in awe. I love storms.

  So of course, the time has come for me to write about them. Hence, my new Heart of the Storm contemporary romance series about a family of storm chasers. The Chases (yes, I named them Chase . . . couldn’t help myself) are a family I’ve come to adore, because they love storms, too. They just take it a little further.

  Now, I had to do a little homework before writing this one, since chasing tornadoes isn’t something I can say I’ve done. And not even the Internet and movies could give me all I needed to know on this subject. So I’m ever so grateful to Conley, a meteorologist and former storm chaser with www.texasstormchasers.com, for the FaceTime conference call, educating me on all the ins and outs of a storm chaser’s life, the equipment, the crazy, the good, the bad, and the ugly. They do so much more than we ever know, and we all owe these crazy wonderful people our undying gratitude.

  Forever loves to my family, the little pieces of my heart that walk around every day independent of me, and who will never fully know how much they are loved. Troy, Amanda, and Ethan. To the moon and back, my loves.

  This book wouldn’t be what it is without my agent, Jessica Faust, of BookEnds Literary Agency, and my team of wonderfuls at Montlake Romance! Maria Gomez and Melody Guy—thank you so much! If I thought they’d survive the trip, I’d send you some lemon bars, so consider them virtually sent and then just use the recipe (wink). Shout out to my Divas at Divas, Ink (hey!!!). And to my writing BFF, author Melissa Cutler, who keeps me sane and helps me brainstorm titles when I’m like: I don’t know! Call it Tornado Love! Yeah, friends like that are important. Hugs, my friend!

  Speaking of the lemon bar recipe, Maddi’s lemon bars might have made an appearance . . . just sayin’.

  I love hearing from my readers, so please shoot me a line on Facebook or Twitter (@sharlalovelace) or the contact page at www.sharlalovelace.com. Also, keep up easily with all my new book releases by subscribing to my newsletter.

  Enjoy, and stay dry!

  xoxo

  Sharla

  A sneak peek at

  The Sweetest Chase

  the next book in the Heart of the Storm series

  Sharla Lovelace

  Chapter One

  Quinn was getting naked back there. Jesus Christ.

  The windshield wipers were slamming out a rhythm, the windows were back up, and the hottest woman Simon had ever known was buck-naked two feet behind him.

  “That camera isn’t on, is it?” she asked, pointing at the small camera sitting on the console between Zach and Simon. “Crap, what about the mobile cams?”

  “Relax,” Simon said, pulling his worn-out ball cap off and scrubbing fingers through his hair. “I turned them off the second you said you were stripping.”

  There was a sentence he never expected to say.

  “Oh, my God, I knew better than to come on this run,” Quinn said, her voice strained as it sounded like she was wrestling something over her head. “Come on, Quinn,” she said, deepening her voice. “Just a couple of hours, they said. Think of the cloud formations, they said.”

  “It was just supposed to be a couple of hours,” Simon said.

  “There were some great cloud formations,” Zach acknowledged.

  Quinn responded with a thwack of a soaking-wet T-shirt against the side of Zach’s neck, and Simon crammed his hat back on, shaking his head.

  “Sounded just like you,” he said, looking at Zach.

  “I don’t sound like that,” Zach responded, peeling Quinn’s shirt off his skin and dropping it in Simon’s lap.

  “You’re no better,” Quinn said, kicking the back of Simon’s seat. “Please, Little Bit, we need you,” she said dramatically, her voice muffled.

  “Now that sounded like you,” Zach said.

  “Need some help?” Simon called to her, ignoring his brother.

  “I’m good,” she grunted. “Damn it. Thought this might happen so I brought clothes—ow—but a towel would have been nice. God, my mother is never going to let me hear the end of being late to Phoebe’s baby shower.”

  “We did need you, for what it’s worth,” Zach said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We—”

  “Eyes on the road, mister getting-married-in-two-days,” Quinn said, kicking Zach’s seat in turn.

  Zach lifted a splayed hand. “Hey, I’m being a total gentleman here. I’m just saying thank you. We did need you. The Infinity van filming us was great, but we needed an inside eye filming the weather.”

  Just months earlier, the Dallas-based Internet network Infinity had dangled a carrot. They’d heard of the storm-chasing Chase family of Cody, Texas, and wanted to design a new reality show around them. What started out a little rough and chaotic, was now starting to find its footing, and the original contract for the pilot and three episodes had now expanded to ten.

  A film contract did not guarantee optimal weather, however, and today was one of those times. Eli was doing a guest spot at the station and Hannah was helping Maddi with last-minute wedding preparations, so they’d gone out with the minimal team of Zach, Simon, and Quinn, at the prospect of at least some heavy waterspouts over Lake Grapevine. Simon had seen the cells build up, and the numbers looked good. Quinn had her little sister’s baby shower to go to, but Zach assured her he’d have her back in time.
<
br />   Then the clouds had pulled back, doing a little mating dance with Zach, dropping a ton of rain but no funnels and yet teasing with possibilities. Simon knew his brother wouldn’t be able to resist following that shelf cloud a little longer. It was just in his blood.

  “Well, you come in and explain that I’m late to a Parker formal function because you were waiting for a cloud to drop a rope for you,” Quinn said, her voice going muffled again. “On second thought, scratch that.”

  “Whatever,” Zach said.

  “Whatever, my ass,” Simon said, laughing. “You wanted a big one while Eli’s in Dallas.”

  “No, actually, I wanted a big one before I’m about to be gone for a week,” Zach said. “I promised Maddi a honeymoon away, free of all things storm-related.”

  “God help you if it rains—” Simon began, before Quinn’s feet landed on either side of his seat. He and Zach both looked at the foot between them. “What are you doing?”

  “Pulling up my leggings,” Quinn said, lifting herself with another grunt.

  “Shit,” Simon muttered under his breath. She had her legs on either side of him with her pants down. It was too much for one man to take.

  “Breathe,” Zach whispered on a laugh as he backhanded Simon in the chest.

  With a last oomph, Quinn swung her legs down and turned her back to them. “I’m so sorry, but I need help,” she said, making both Simon and Zach look back.

  Where Zach brought his amused gaze back to the rainy stretch ahead, Simon stared at Quinn’s bare back. Bare except for a red bra strap, exposed by an open zipper that she’d wrestled up to just above the small of her back.

  “What if I go the wrong way?” Simon asked, teasing in order to prolong the view.

  “Then you’d be Zach, not you,” Quinn said over her shoulder.

  “Hey!” Zach said. “Nearly married man over here!”

  “And what, I’m Saint Simon?” Simon grumbled, pulling up her zipper as slowly as he could without making it a sexual overture.

  “Almost there,” Zach said, turning into a gated community and waving at a guard who barely even glanced up. “Tell you what. We’ll swing by your apartment and get your car and drop it by here so you can leave when you want.”

  Quinn swung around. “Really?”

  “Least I can do,” Zach said.

  She blew out a breath. “That will be great, thank you.” She groaned as she caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror. “God, my hair looks like—” Quinn began, twisting her soggy blonde ponytail into a bun. “Have anything up there? Paper clips?”

  “Seriously?” Simon asked.

  “Any port in a storm,” she said, gesturing impatiently. “C’mon, I need something. Anything.”

  Simon dug in his battered leather computer bag and closed his fingers around something. “I have a binder clip,” he said, holding it up.

  Quinn sighed. “Sold.”

  She snatched it and somehow fastened her bun with it, tucking in the levers.

  “I can’t believe you just made that work,” Simon said.

  “It’s not a sure thing, yet,” she said, scrubbing at wispy wet bangs and fanning them. “Say a little prayer that it will hold.” She tugged at the red and black dress-turned-smock over her leggings, looking for wrinkles. “How do I look? Like an urchin?”

  Quinn could look adorable clad in a paper bag, but Simon was biased.

  “Nah, I’ve seen urchins,” Simon said with a wink. “You’ve got ’em beat.”

  “I’ll pinch your ear with this clip,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

  “Not while it’s the only thing holding your hair up, you won’t,” Simon said, reaching back to pat her knee. “Relax, it’s your family, not a firing squad. And it’s just a shower. I’ve never seen you so keyed up.”

  “It’s my mother,” she corrected. “And nothing is ever just anything with Adelaide Parker. You’ve met her—” Quinn stopped, gasping, tearing through the duffle bag and nearly crawling onto the floorboard. “Oh, shit!”

  “What’s the matter?” Zach said, pulling up to the curb in front of a large Tudor-style house with its own gate.

  “Shoes!” she cried, slapping her hands over her face. “I forgot shoes.”

  “You have your boots,” Zach said, chuckling.

  “No!” she said, her voice wavering. “They don’t go and they’re covered in mud.”

  “Hey,” Simon said, turning around. Her tone wasn’t right. Quinn wasn’t one to rattle easily; in fact she was probably the most level-headed, quick-thinking woman he’d ever met. And right now, she was rattled. “You okay?”

  Her deep-green eyes met his briefly before she blinked away, and he saw trouble in there.

  “Yeah,” she said softly. “Just—” She stopped and shook her head. “Just a little too much family lately.”

  “Wedding planning will do that,” Zach said.

  “Come on,” Simon said, getting out and opening her door to avoid further talk about Quinn’s upcoming knot-tying. “Go explain and make them all laugh about it. You’re good at lighting up a room.”

  Quinn got out and straightened clothing that looked pretty damn good, considering how it had made it onto her body.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  She gave him a grateful smile that didn’t quite reach her anxious eyes. “You always say that.”

  “And it’s usually true.”

  “Well, today I look like a drowned rat,” she said, holding up a hand. “And don’t say you’ve seen those, too.” She took a deep breath. “All right, I’m going in,” she said, handing Simon her keys. “Thank you for doing that.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Break a leg!” Zach yelled.

  “My luck, I will,” she muttered, turning and heading up the long wet sidewalk on bare feet, a big purple box under her arm.

  Simon watched her turn back and mouth Save me as she made a face and disappeared behind a gate. He chuckled as he got back in the vehicle, and then did a double take at Zach’s look.

  “Shut up,” Simon said.

  “Haven’t said a word,” Zach said, pulling away from the curb.

  “You don’t have to,” Simon said. “You have Mom’s eyebrow-raise down.”

  “You’ve got it bad, bro,” Zach said.

  Simon fastened his seat belt. “I don’t have anything,” he said. “Just drive.”

  “You’re ate up.”

  Simon rubbed at his face, exhausted. “Thanks for the observation.”

  “And you’re running out of time,” Zach said. “Her big day is right around the corner, too.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “When is it?” Zach asked. “Maddi knows, but I’m—”

  “Clueless, I know,” Simon finished for him. “A month,” he said then, feeling the kick to his nuts he’d been experiencing lately every time he heard the words. “Quinn gets married in a month.”

  Chapter Two

  Quinn stood outside the big wooden double doors, looking up at the knocker as if she actually had a choice. She rolled her head on her neck to hear the satisfactory popping of stress relief and took a deep breath.

  “Get on with it,” she said under her breath, adjusting the big purple-and-silver wrapped package under her arm. “No time to mess around.”

  Reaching for the handle, the door opened in front of her.

  “Quinny!”

  Quinn widened her eyes and stretched her mouth into a smile; then her gaze dropped to her sister’s feet.

  “Phoebe!” she cried through her teeth. “I’m so sorry I’m late—give me your shoes.”

  Her sister’s eyebrows lifted in question. “What?”

  “Say your feet hurt,” Quinn whispered in a rush, pointing to her bare feet. “I changed in the
car and I forgot to pack shoes.”

  “Why did you change in the car?”

  Quinn sighed and worked to dial back her impatience. “I had to work, that’s why I’m late. We were filming on the other side of Fort Worth, and it ran over so I changed in the backseat going down the highway. Please?” Quinn pleaded. “Don’t make me go before that pack of wolves like this.”

  “Jesus, Quinn,” Phoebe said dramatically, kicking off the black Manolos. “Just so you know, I love these shoes.”

  “And I’ll love them, too,” Quinn said, rubbing her sister’s belly. “Besides, aren’t pregnant women supposed to wear flats or something? Lord, you’re huge.”

  Phoebe’s mouth dropped open, and she swatted at Quinn’s shoulder. “Don’t you know better than to tell a hormonal pregnant woman how big she is?”

  Quinn cringed and slipped on the probably-eight-hundred-dollar shoes. She’d forgotten how comfortable money could feel.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Can hardly even tell you’re pregnant.”

  Phoebe laughed and looped an arm around Quinn’s neck and pulled her into the foyer, steering her toward their mother’s sitting room. Cackles and diva giggles could be heard.

  “Is your hair wet?” she whispered.

  “It was raining,” Quinn whispered back.

  “Y’all!” Phoebe called out as they entered the room. “Look who’s here!”

  The crowd didn’t exactly erupt into applause, but there were some respectable oh’s and polite yay’s and broad smiles. There was one Who’s that? mumbled within Quinn’s hearing, but nothing unexpected. It wasn’t her crowd. It never had been.

  Phoebe squeezed her neck in another hug before she let go, and Quinn took a cleansing breath as she smiled at all the camouflaged sharks in the room. It was worth it for her sister. Even the dropped gazes as many of them did the head-to-toe assessment. That was okay. She had good shoes.

  “Hey, Quinn,” said a soft-spoken woman she remembered from Phoebe’s wedding two years back. One of the few of her sister’s friends that Quinn hadn’t instantly wanted to throw her champagne glass at.