Desire by Design (Silverweed Falls Book 1)

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Desire by Design (Silverweed Falls Book 1) Page 23

by Thea Dawson


  Until Chris had wrecked it.

  Now it was a relief to have Scott at her side as she arrived at Victor and Simon’s house. Charlotte came too, of course; having been to many of the rehearsals, she was a sort of honorary mascot and had most of the cast wrapped around her pudgy, three-year-old finger.

  Joy looked cautiously through the throng for Chris. Except for their time together on stage that afternoon, she hadn’t spoken to him since she’d stormed out of the theater the night before. On stage that afternoon, she’d been aware of an extra tension that had brought out a newer and darker side of Beatrice’s and Benedick’s passion. But a quick glance through the living room, kitchen and back porch revealed no sign of him.

  Which was good—the last thing she wanted was to have to make polite conversation with him with Scott at her side. She was too angry … and, if she were being honest, she felt too guilty. There had been a moment there, a crazy, delusional moment, when she’d actually been tempted by a kid who wasn’t even old enough to buy his own beer. There was no doubt he was attractive, but betraying kind, caring, reliable Scott for another man—however charismatic—was unthinkable.

  But Chris’s absence made her sad as well. She wanted some piece of the friendship they’d shared over two months of rehearsals, but she feared it was gone forever. They’d bonded over the summer, exchanging snarky remarks and occasional confidences, sharing jokes and references that no one else would get, flirting in a teasing, relaxed, friendly—or so she’d thought—way.

  Now the play was over, and there was no reason that they would cross paths again. Standing hand in hand on stage as they took their final bows was, in all likelihood, the last time that they’d ever be together. The thought left her oddly bereft.

  “Brilliant performance today.” Victor kissed her on the cheek and exchanged the platter of deviled eggs she’d brought for two glasses of wine which he pressed into her and Scott’s hands. “She was amazing, wasn’t she?” he said to Scott.

  “She was great,” said Scott proudly, and Joy felt a twist of guilt. He was always so supportive of her, and she’d gone and let another man kiss her. A stage kiss, of course, but …

  “I don’t know what you and Chris did last night, but you both got more … passion out of those characters than I’ve ever seen. So much anger, so much buried longing. Excellent work. Where is Chris, anyway?”

  “I don’t know.” She kept her voice casual. “I figured everyone would be here by now.” She prayed her acting skills would hold up long enough to get her through the party. Had Scott noticed anything odd about Victor’s remark about her and Chris last night?

  If she acted as if everything were normal, it would be.

  There was another knock on the door right behind them. “Simon!” Victor called across the crowded room. “Show our guests to the food while I get the door!” He made for the door, still carrying the platter of eggs.

  Chris did not appear, and after a while Joy relaxed into the festivities. The evening passed in a haze of congratulations that turned into a rehashing of various scenes, retellings of funny things that had happened on the set, and references to the various mishaps and dramas that the production had faced along the way. Victor, his face flushed with wine and excitement, declared multiple times that this was the best Silver Scene production he’d ever had the honor of directing.

  As the evening wore on, Scott’s pleasant smile gradually became more forced. “I think we need to get Charlotte to bed,” he whispered as Simon and Jennifer regaled the guests with the story of a particularly embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. All the players had heard the story, if not witnessed it first-hand, but it was still funny, and Joy felt a flash of resentment at the thought of having to leave. Couldn’t he give her a little more time? This was her last chance to be part of the production. After this, it was back to normal life—no more rehearsals, no more learning lines, no more terror of being on stage in front of an audience, no more exhilaration at carrying it off.

  No more Chris—

  The front door flew open and Chris strode in. Still handsome and charismatic enough to draw every eye in the room toward him, he was also clearly very drunk.

  He stumbled, righted himself, and swept the room with an hard gaze. His eyes landed on her.

  His mere entrance had been enough to distract almost everyone from Simon and Jennifer’s story and the laughter and chatter faded. Joy felt their eyes follow his gaze to her and was suddenly aware of being in the center of a very uncomfortable spotlight. Now she cursed herself for not leaving sooner. She stood up, and was aware of Scott standing up beside her, hefting a sleepy Charlotte in his arms.

  “Joy,” Chris said, taking another unsteady step toward her. “I need to talk to you.”

  “We were just leaving.” Joy glanced around quickly. Scott had Charlotte; she had her purse. She could get the platter from Victor some other time. She took a step toward the door, but Chris didn’t get out of her way.

  “Then I’ll just have to say it now. I’m crazy about you, Joy. I think I’m in love with you.”

  Joy closed her eyes and prayed for the ground to swallow her up.

  Simon stepped forward and slapped Chris on the back. “Chris, darling, we thought you’d never make it. Why don’t we grab you something to eat?”

  Chris shook him off and stepped closer to Joy. “Deep down, I know you feel the same way about me.”

  Joy cringed, aware of all eyes in the room on her. “Chris, we really need to leave. Simon’s right—why don’t you grab something to eat—”

  She stepped forward again, but he blocked her path. Victor, recovering some of his sobriety, stepped up to Chris’s side while signaling at Luke, who’d played Claudio. Luke calmly took Chris’s other side, and he and Victor began to gently steer Chris in the direction of the couch.

  “C’mon, buddy. Simon and Jennifer were just telling us a story. Let’s get you a drink and listen.” Over his shoulder he smiled apologetically at Joy and glanced at the door. Time to make her escape.

  What was everyone thinking? What was Scott thinking?

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Scott.

  He shook his head with a smile. “Can’t blame him. Kid’s got good taste.”

  That was Scott. Always so sweet. Always seeing the best in her. She managed a fleeting, grateful smile at him, though gratitude wasn’t exactly what she was feeling.

  “I know you don’t love him!” Chris shouted just as her hand touched the door knob. “You could do so much better!”

  Something snapped. She whirled, furious. “What, like you? Like a college student who isn’t even old enough to buy beer? Like a drunk who shows up at party and embarrasses me in front of everyone? Give me a break! I thought we were friends, Chris. You’re pathetic.”

  She shoved the door open and stepped out onto the front porch, Scott and Charlotte right behind her.

  “I love you, Joy!” Chris bellowed from inside the house.

  She slammed the door and marched toward the car, Scott chuckling quietly beside her. His laughter infuriated her even more.

  She slid into the passenger seat. “I’m so sorry,” she said again, trying to hide the emotional maelstrom that swirled within her. “I never thought—I didn’t realize—” but she couldn’t finish the sentence.

  She had known. She had realized.

  Scott slid Charlotte into the child seat in the back, buckling her up responsibly before taking the driver’s seat, as he always did. “You’re quite a spitfire when you get riled up.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze and smiled at her before turning on the engine and putting the car in reverse.

  She ground her teeth. Scott was trying to be nice, but he was coming off as condescending. “Anyway, I’m sorry the evening ended like that,” she said lamely.

  “Eh, no big deal. Poor kid’s got a crush on you. He’ll sober up and get over it. The play’s done, and you’ll never have to deal with him again.”

  “No, I suppose not.
” She kept her voice steady.

  He backed carefully down the driveway. “Anyway, it’ll be good to have everything back to normal. Charlotte and I missed having you around in the evenings.”

  Back to normal.

  He’ll sober up and get over it.

  Her magical summer was over. She shivered in the icy blast of the air conditioner as Victor’s house receded in the distance.

  Acting on Impulse, Book Two in the Silverweed Falls Series, will be available September 29, 2017.

  You can pre-order a copy at www.TheaDawson.com/ActingonImpulse.

  Other Books by Thea Dawson

  Doubts & Desires: A Silverweed Falls Series Novella

  Download a FREE copy of Doubts & Desires

  Fleeing a romance—and a business arrangement—gone bad, Merilee Porter has come to Silverweed Falls to start fresh. She’s determined to prove herself by opening her own café, but she can’t shake the voice of her old boyfriend Jack telling her she’ll never succeed without him.

  Adam Hartmann is too focused on keeping his family’s dairy farm afloat to have time for romance, but when he approaches the pretty owner of the new café in town about selling his farm-fresh ice cream, it dawns on him that he might be missing something.

  He’s determined to woo Merilee, but her confidence has been shaken and she finds it hard to believe Adam is all that he seems to be. Can his desire overcome her doubts?

  FREE on Kindle Unlimited

  Wanderlust

  Monica Prescott, writer and world traveler, has everything she wants … except a man who's free-spirited enough to join her for a life on the road. But when she bumps into Jason, the guy who broke her heart in college, she lets him think she's engaged. It wouldn't take much to fall for him again—and that's one road she doesn't want to go down.

  Jason is everything she's not and doesn't want to be. He's settled down in snowy Chicago and focused on his high-powered desk job, while Monica longs for foreign shores and sunshine. But the more time she spends with Jason, the more she starts to question her career and lifestyle.

  Monica has two weeks before a new assignment starts in Bangkok, and time is running out for her to make the biggest decision of her life.

  Asking Angelina

  Lauren Prescott has just been assigned to write the raunchy sex advice column, “Ask Angelina,” at the fashion magazine where she interns. Only problem? “Angelina” is the voice of experience, and at the age of twenty-two, Lauren is still a bona fide virgin.

  Her best friends Joey and Krista offer to help her, but their advice soon has Lauren looking at Joey in a whole new light. To complicate matters, the magazine is bought out by a handsome Italian playboy, who wants to send Lauren to Italy for Fashion Week—and who may want to be more than just her boss.

  Whisked from Minneapolis to Milan and suddenly in the middle of a love triangle she never expected, Lauren will to have to stop playing it safe if she’s going to get what she wants—But if she goes too far, she may lose everything she truly cares about.

  Acknowledgments

  As I wrote Celia and Richard’s story, I had help from a number of people, all of whom deserve recognition.

  First, to my beta readers, who gave me feedback on the plot, caught a zillion little (and not so little) errors and provided encouragement when it was needed most. To Darlene Fessenden, Carolyn Fields, Kathryn Schieber, Brenda Holt, Bouke Sieperda, Tammy Earwood, Dawn Roberts, Katie Williams, Babs Hightower, Natasha L, Reader54, Gaynor, Suzanne Taylor, Linet Akoth, and Hafsa—thank you all very much!

  To Morgan Lane Bennett, who helped me overcome writers block with his peculiar blend of hypnotism, NLP and common sense—thank you, your work has made my work infinitely easier.

  To the authors of the Indie Romance Ink group and the 20Booksto50k group, who have been sources of information, advice and answers. A special thanks to Robert J. Crane, whose career has been inspirational and educational (in so many ways).

  And finally, to my husband, who patiently provides feedback on all drafts, whisks away the kids when I need to get work done, and lets me bounce ideas around with him even when he’d much rather be sleeping—thank you. You’re my very own romance hero.

  About the Author

  Thea Dawson has lived in Rome, Tokyo and London, and spent much of her twenties traveling around the world. Eventually she met the love of her life and settled down in the Pacific Northwest, where she now lives with her husband and three children. After a checkered career which included stints as an English teacher, librarian and editor, she now writes full time, telling tales of romance and adventure.

  If you'd like to keep up with her and learn more about her books, please visit her website at www.theadawson.com or find her on Facebook at fb.me/TheaDawsonAuthor.

 

 

 


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