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Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

Page 33

by Melinda Curtis


  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading the third installment of The Hollywood Rules.

  If you enjoyed Trent and Cora’s story, you might also like the other books in the series. Three full-length novels launched the series: Amber Rules, Blue Rules, Cora Rules, followed by the novella Gemma Rules and Breaking the Rules. Each installment stands on its own (and doesn’t give away the plots/happenings in previous books – because I hate that).

  Would you like to know when my next book is coming out? Sign up for my book release email list at www.MelindaCurtis.com (in return you’ll receive a free read only available to my book release subscribers), follow me on Twitter at @MelCurtisAuthor, or like my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/MelindaCurtisAuthor.

  Reviews help readers find books. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

  I also write light-hearted, sweet romances. The Harmony Valley series for Harlequin Heartwarming launched with Dandelion Wishes, followed by Summer Kisses, Season of Change, and One Perfect Year. Three more books and a free novella are planned in this small town, contemporary series starting in August 2015 with Time for Love.

  And if that weren’t enough to keep me busy, I also write a sweet romantic comedy series. The Bridesmaid series launched with The Wedding Promise and continued with Always A Bridesmaid. The third installment – Rescued by a Bridesmaid – will be released in the spring/ summer of 2015.

  Surrender to Love

  Raine English

  Copyright © 2015 by:

  Raine English

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  Acknowledgment

  As always, thank you to my family and to Linda Ingmanson, the best friend and editor I could ask for.

  Praise and Awards

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Kindle Top 100 Bestselling Author

  Daphne du Maurier Award Winner

  RWA Golden Heart Finalist

  “The characters and their relationships developed quickly. There was never a dull moment! I will definitely be reading more of Raine’s books.”

  ~Sue Peace of Peaces of Me Book Reviews on Tin Angel

  “The entourage of fascinating characters kept you guessing about their true demeanors right up through the end with a crescendo of suspense all the way through. A great read that I highly recommend.”

  ~NetGalley Reviewer on Mistress of Raghery

  Chapter 1

  Tara Spencer took a few more steps toward the three-story Federal-style mansion, stopping at the base of the wooden steps that would take her to the entry porch. She clenched her suitcase handle as she glanced back at the old Subaru parked in the driveway and for a split second contemplated getting back into it and driving away. However tempting that thought might be, there were a number of reasons why she couldn’t do that. First and foremost, she was dying of thirst. A trip from New Hampshire to Massachusetts might not seem like a big deal, but it was the thirty-five miles from Boston to Plymouth County, and then that narrow unpaved road—the only road—that connected Breakers Island to the mainland that did her in. Driving anywhere without air-conditioning in the middle of July was no fun, but this ride had been horrible and one she didn’t want to take again any time soon.

  Besides, she’d promised her grandmother she’d spend the summer with her. Not that she owed the old woman anything. She didn’t even know her, having been four years old when her family moved away. But Tara always kept her word, and maybe developing some kind of relationship with her might help mend the rift between her parents and Emily Spencer. Especially now that Addison was gone. After all, it had been her grandfather who’d cut off his only son when Tara’s dad took a job in Concord.

  She brushed a strand of sweat-moistened hair out of her eyes, then gingerly placed one foot on the bottom step, wondering if her full weight would cause the board to break. Not that she was heavy by any means. But this place needed more than tender loving care. It needed a major overhaul. And not only were the stairs in need of repair, but the grass was overgrown and weeds had so overtaken the brick walkway that if you didn’t watch each step, you could take a nasty fall. Many of them had crumbled or been raised by roots. And those weren’t the only problems. There were places where the clapboard siding on the house was so weathered, it had rotted away and there were numerous birds’ nests in the eaves of the second-story porch and hipped roof. She just hoped the interior didn’t match the exterior, but by the looks of the broken louvered shutters covering the windows, she rather doubted it. Sunlight probably hadn’t entered the place in years.

  As she set her other foot on the step, she heard a pop and froze, thinking she was about to fall through. Thankfully, though, the board remained intact. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing that would have made such a noise. However, to her right was the Douglas mansion, almost identical in size, shape, and style. The two lots were long and narrow and the houses close together. Standing not twenty feet away, leaning up against one of the pillars gracing the entry porch, was a guy drinking a beer. So that was what she’d heard—the opening of the can.

  She guessed him to be in his mid-twenties. He had on tight jeans and a white tee that barely covered his well-muscled biceps. He wore his sandy blond hair longer on top and obviously gelled to give it that messy look. Add at least a week’s worth of stubble to a well-chiseled face and a pierced ear, and she had no doubt she was looking at the island bad boy. The type of guy she’d sworn to stay away from. She’d learned her lesson with Jason, and it was because of their disastrous relationship and messy breakup that she decided to take her grandmother up on her offer.

  Her gaze met his. He took another sip of beer, then held the can out, offering her a drink. Like she would share a beer with a stranger. No, thanks. Besides, she didn’t even like the stuff. When she shook her head, he just shrugged as if it was her loss and then guzzled the rest of the can. Before he went inside, she caught sight of the label—Spencer Douglas Wheat Ale.

  Frank Douglas and Addison Spencer had grown up together and started the Spencer Douglas Brewery in 1945. It had been an immediate success. Their handcrafted private-label beer paved the way for a full line of premium beers, eventually leading their brewery to become one of the largest in the region and amassing the two men a fortune. It also was the reason her dad and grandfather had become estranged.

  She wondered who that hot guy was. Probably a maintenance worker. The Douglas property was meticulously kept, unlike her grandmother’s. She climbed the rest of the steps and then used the large brass knocker on the front door to make her arrival known. It took a minute for the door to open, and when it did, she was surprised by the appearance of the frail woman standing before her.

  “Grandmother?” Although Tara didn’t have much of a memory of her, from pictures and stories she’d been told, Emily Spencer had been a strong woman, both physically and mentally. A far cry from this wizened white-haired woman with a cane.

  “Little Tara. I can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

  “It’s been almost twenty years.”

  “Yes, it has, and far too long.” She stepped aside. “You don’t have to stand out there. Come on in.” She tapped her cane on the hardwood floor as she walked, leading Tara into what years ago would have been called the parlor. “Have a seat, my dear. What can I get for you?”

  “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be caring for you?” Tara smiled warmly and set her suitcase down on the floor.

  “And you shall, but at least for today, let me do for you.”

  “I’d love a glass of water,” Tara replied.

  “Of course. It’s quite hot and humid, isn’t it?”

  “And especially uncomfortable when your car doesn’t have air-conditioning.”

&nbs
p; Her grandmother made a face. “Oh, that sounds quite dreadful. I can’t tolerate the heat. Haven’t been able to for quite some time. I made Addison install central air years ago. Make yourself at home, my dear. I’ll be right back with your water.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother.” After she left the room, Tara sat on the sofa and took in her surroundings. There were lots of antiques scattered around, a lovely Queen Anne-style desk, and an Oriental carpet that had to be worth a bunch. Despite needed updating—new draperies would be nice—and a good coat of paint, the house, at least what she’d seen of it so far, wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

  A few minutes later, her grandmother returned, carrying a glass of water. She handed it to Tara, then sat beside her on the sofa.

  “I’m so glad you agreed to spend the summer with me. I’ve missed you all so much. It’s such a shame what happened between Addison and your dad. But my husband could be a very stubborn man, and, unfortunately, Grant inherited that nasty trait. But now that you’re here, and once you discover the island isn’t such a bad place, maybe you can convince your parents to come visit sometime.” There was a hopeful twinkle in her grandmother’s faded eyes.

  Tara quenched her thirst with a long drink. “That would be nice. I’ll certainly try my best.” Although, her grandmother was absolutely right about her father being stubborn. Once he made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. However, without Addison there, Tara might be able—with a lot of convincing—to get him to agree to see his mother. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to make it to the funeral. I had finals, and Dad, well…”

  Her grandmother patted her leg. “I didn’t expect Grant to come, and I’m just glad that you’re here now. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. Still got that gorgeous blonde hair and those big blue eyes. You must have all the single men in Concord fighting over you.”

  If only that had been the case, but she’d been in a long-term relationship with Jason. Five years, to be exact. And she’d believed him when he said he loved her, so she’d been more than distraught when she discovered he was cheating on her with one of her best friends. Just thinking about how naïve she’d been made her blood boil. Why hadn’t she seen the warning signs?

  They’d been there. People had even told her that Grace and Jason were fooling around. But she chose not to believe it, until she saw them with her own eyes. Thank goodness her grandmother had called when she did. Lord knows what she would have done if she’d had to spend another day in New Hampshire. Breakers Island was right where she needed to be. Away from all the whispers and sad looks cast her way. She didn’t need anyone’s pity, that was for sure. What she needed was a peaceful, quiet summer at the beach to get over the creep who’d broken her heart.

  Tara had been so engrossed with her thoughts that she didn’t even noticed her grandmother get up and walk across the room. It wasn’t until she dropped her cane, trying to open a cabinet drawer, that Tara was brought back to the present. She jumped up to help, but her grandmother quickly retrieved the cane and rested its handle against a square-backed chair.

  Emily took out a photo album and then came back over to sit beside her. She began to flip through its pages, stopping about halfway through. “I thought you might like to see this. It was the last picture taken of all of us together.”

  Tara gazed at the photo with interest. Her parents hadn’t kept any pictures of them as a family. “May I look at the rest as well?”

  “Of course.”

  She set the album on Tara’s lap, and Tara took her time going through it. Most of the photos were of her grandparents and of her dad growing up, and of course lots of baby pictures of her. At the end of the album, there was one of Addison and Frank and some man she didn’t recognize. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to the heavyset bearded man.

  “That’s Frank’s son, Boyd. He lives next door. Frank and Nel retired to Florida a couple months before Addison’s death. Boyd runs the brewery now. Unlike your dad, who wanted nothing to do with it, Boyd couldn’t wait for it to be his someday. At least half of it. None of us ever really thought Grant would simply up and walk away from his inheritance. But he did. And now Boyd is running the whole show.”

  “But what about you? Didn’t Grandfather leave you his share of the business?”

  “What would I want with the brewery now that Addison’s gone? I had over sixty years of it. That’s more than enough. Besides, how much money does an old woman need? About two years ago, Addison and I had a long talk about all that. Since I didn’t want the brewery, and your grandfather and Frank had started it, he decided Frank should have it all.” Emily covered her mouth when she started to cough. “This darn bronchitis. It just keeps hanging on. I really need to lie down for a while. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Tara closed the photo album, then gave her grandmother a hug. “Of course I don’t mind. You need your rest so you’ll get better.”

  She glanced at Tara’s suitcase. “I made up a room for you. It’s on the third floor. I thought you might like some privacy. Oh, and if you’re hungry, there’s food in the icebox, and if you don’t like what’s in there, the number for Cody’s Market is in my directory on the kitchen table. They deliver, and you can put it on my tab.”

  Tara smiled at her. “Thank you, Grandmother.” She watched her hobble into the front hall and then up the staircase. After she heard the bedroom door close, she went outside to get the rest of her things out of the car. She hadn’t brought much. Just the one suitcase, a duffle bag, and her cosmetic case.

  As she strode along the brick walkway, she noticed the maintenance worker she’d seen earlier was in the driveway next door washing a black Mercedes. He had his shirt off, and his broad tanned chest glistened with sweat. Her gaze traveled down to his six-pack abs, and then lower to where his jeans sat dangerously low on his hips. He caught her watching him, and she quickly looked away, but not before noticing his smug smile. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. There was no doubt he was used to women checking him out and enjoyed it.

  She hurried over to her car, draped her duffle bag over her shoulder, and then grabbed her cosmetic case off the back seat. The roar of an engine caused her to look next door again. A silver BMW had pulled in behind the Mercedes. The driver revved the engine before getting out. He was tall and lean and just as good-looking as the shirtless guy, just in a much more refined way.

  He raked his fingers through his jet-black hair before tossing his keys over to the maintenance worker. “Got time to do mine too?” he asked leaning up against the hood of the car.

  “Nope.” He threw the keys back. “It might do you good, Bennett, to wash your own car for once.”

  He chuckled. “There’s more of a chance I’d change the oil than bake out here in the sun, and we both know that’s not going to happen.” Bennett strode into the house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

  Tara hurried up the walkway, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. Once inside the house, she set her duffle bag and cosmetic case on the floor next to her suitcase, then went into the parlor and picked up the water glass she’d set on the marble-topped table beside the sofa. She went back into the front hall and headed toward the kitchen. On her way there, she checked out the other first-floor rooms and found them a cluttered mess. Especially the dining room. There was an extensive collection of porcelain knickknacks covering the entire table. And her grandfather’s library was just as bad. Only that was overrun with papers. There were piles of newspapers and magazines everywhere, and on his huge mahogany desk, there were bills, invoices, and receipts that must go back ten years.

  She ran her finger over the back of his chair, and it came away covered in dust. So much for thinking the interior of the house wasn’t so bad. Apparently, her grandmother had only gotten around to cleaning the parlor. She certainly had her work cut out for her to get this place spruced up.

  Tara made her way into the kitchen, where she set her water glass on the counter and was glad to
see that it wasn’t covered with stuff too. The pantry was stocked with lots of canned food. However, the refrigerator barely had a thing in it, aside from some onions, carrots, celery, and green beans. Was that all her grandmother ate? She made a list of items to order from Cody’s Market, then went back into the pantry for the can of beef stock she’d seen in there. At least for now, she could make some vegetable soup.

  After she had the soup simmering on the stove, she grabbed her bags from the front hall and headed upstairs, stopping to check on her grandmother first before going up to the third floor. She poked her head in the room, and by the old woman’s soft snores knew she was still asleep. The rattling of her chest with each breath, though, left Tara concerned. On the bedside table, she spotted two prescription jars and a bottle of cough syrup. At least she’d been to the doctor, although, how long ago was the question. Later, she’d talk to her about going back.

  Tara left the door slightly ajar and then headed up to her room, where she was pleasantly surprised by its size and brightness. There was a plush four-poster bed, a large dresser, an oval-shaped floor-length mirror, and an upholstered chair that would be great to curl up in to read a book. She even had her own bathroom. What more could a girl want? And it was clean. Her eyes teared up as she thought of her grandmother trekking up the stairs and then painstakingly readying the room for her. What a sweet lady! It was a shame she couldn’t have been a part of Tara’s life growing up.

  She plopped her bags on the bed before heading over to a single French door that led out to a deck overlooking the ocean. She rested her elbows on the railing and watched the waves crash against the shore. Between the Spencer and Douglas houses, there was a pier that the two families shared. That was one thing she remembered from her childhood. She used to love to go out there with her grandfather and watch him fish. She closed her eyes, relishing the warm rays of the sun beating down on her head, while at the same time the cool breeze from the water caressed her cheeks.

 

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