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The Sugar Cookie Sweetheart Swap

Page 36

by Kauffman, Donna; Angell, Kate; Kincaid, Kimberly


  Clara covered his hands with her own, and smiled as her gaze connected with Lily’s and Abby’s. They each busted out in grins at the same time.

  “Happy best year!” Clara announced.

  “I’ll raise a cookie to that!” Lily said.

  “Mine come already raised,” Abby added, making the three women laugh, and their men look a tad adorably uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, well, I think I’ll stick to supplying the milk,” Clara said.

  Everyone laughed as Lily and Abby both quickly chimed, “Here, here!”

  “Play to your strengths,” Will murmured in her ear, as conversation broke out amongst the other four.

  She squeezed his hands and leaned back against him. “You know, I think we all finally have.”

  Eager to get back to Pine Mountain? Bellamy Blake doesn’t know it, but she’s heading that way, and into the arms of sexy mechanic Shane Griffin. Read on for a taste of Turn Up the Heat by Kimberly Kincaid, coming in March.

  The contract on Bellamy Blake’s desk was a doorstop waiting to happen. She flipped through the pages absently, rolling her eyes at the legalese. Hell, it could be Portuguese as far as she was concerned. Being a real estate analyst for the second largest bank in Philadelphia had sounded so much better when she’d started, fresh out of graduate school. After three years, an endless supply of doorstops and a boss who made Attila the Hun look like a lap dog, the whole thing had lost most of its luster.

  Bellamy sank back in her sleek leather desk chair and stared at the waste of foliage that was her current contract, trying to ignore the headache forming behind her eyes. Still, the doorstop-slash-contract wasn’t going to negotiate itself. It was time to buck up and take one for Team Paycheck, headache be damned.

  Bellamy had no sooner waded to her knees in fine print when the phone on her desk rang. She was so grateful for the distraction that she didn’t even check the caller ID before she scooped the phone to her ear. Maybe it would be a cheesy office supply salesman with a well-rehearsed spiel on the virtues of buying toner cartridges in bulk. That would be good for at least twenty minutes of distraction.

  This had to be an all-time low.

  “Bellamy Blake,” she murmured, pushing her blond curls over her shoulder to tuck the phone to her ear.

  “I cannot believe you didn’t tell us you’re moving to San Diego, you hideous bitch!”

  Bellamy sat back, unfazed at her best friend Holly’s theatrics, and grinned. This was even better than the toner guy. “Slow down there, Encyclopedia Dramatica. What are you talking about?” she laughed. “And by the way, hello is usually customary for the whole phone-greeting thing. Just so you know.”

  “Screw hello! You’re moving?! If you told Jenna and the two of you kept it from me because you knew I’d freak out, I’m killing you both!” Holly wailed. Man, her flair for the old melodrama was on fire today.

  “Are you out of your mind? I just reupped the lease on my condo. Why would I . . . oh! Hold on, my cell phone is ringing.” Bellamy paused to dig through her purse. “You know how my boss is. If I let her go to voicemail even once, she’ll light that thing up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve until I answer.”

  “Boss, schmoss! For once, the Wicked Witch can wait!”

  The caller ID made Bellamy sag with relief. “Oh, it’s Jenna! Hang on.” She slid her cell phone under her other ear and tipped her head toward it.

  “Hey, Jenna, let me call you back. I’ve got Holly on the other line, and she’s ranting about—”

  “California? God, Bellamy! Did Derek propose or something to get you to go? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Didn’t anyone stick with a good old-fashioned hello anymore? And what was with the idea of her moving across the country?

  “Okay, remind me not to sample whatever Kool-Aid you and Holly have obviously been sharing. I’m not moving to California, and I’m definitely not getting married. What the hell is going on?” If her friends wanted to pull one over on her in the practical joke department, they needed to work on their skills, big time.

  “You’re getting married?” Holly’s screech from the forgotten office phone rivaled that of a tornado warning going full bore, grabbing Bellamy’s attention.

  She fumbled as she scooped the other receiver back to her ear. “No! Jesus, Holly. I just said I’m not getting married!” Bellamy huffed, starting to get exasperated.

  “I’m Jenna, not Holly,” her other best friend replied from the cell phone, confused.

  Bellamy released a heavy sigh. “Holly’s on my office phone, and I’ve got one of you on each ear, even though you’re both insane. Look, if this is some kind of sick candid camera thing that you guys are planning to throw on YouTube, so help me . . .”

  “Bellamy, are you watching Derek’s newscast?”

  Whoa. What was with Jenna’s talking-down-a-suicide-jumper voice? She only reserved that for Holly when she was going full-tilt, so something must really be up. Bellamy paused.

  “Just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean I watch all of his newscasts, Jenna. I’m at work, and my boss just dropped a couple hundred pages worth of a contract on my desk.” Bellamy’s stomach shifted uncomfortably. “Why?”

  “Oh my freaking God. You don’t know,” Holly breathed.

  Bellamy pressed her office phone to her ear, feeling like a human Ping-Pong ball. “Don’t know what, Holly? Come on, you guys. What’s going on?”

  “Derek’s moving to San Diego,” they replied, in stereo.

  Bellamy’s brows knit together in confusion, and her first impulse was to laugh, although it came out more like a nervous croak. “That’s impossible. I think he’d have told me if he was moving across the country.” It wasn’t as if San Diego was a hop, skip and jump from Derek’s upscale Philadelphia brownstone. It was on another coast, for God’s sake.

  “Uh, sweetie, maybe you should call him,” Holly offered.

  The croak made a repeat performance. “Okay, first of all, that’s going to be kind of hard seeing as how both of my phones are tied up at the moment. Secondly, he’s clearly on the air right now, saying something that’s making the both of you lose your marbles.” Ugh, what was that tightness in her chest? Who’d have thought that turkey and Swiss could give a girl heartburn like this.

  “Google him, or grab the live stream from the Internet or something,” Holly tried again. “Because I’m telling you, I’m not making this up.”

  Far be it for Bellamy to be a spoilsport, especially if it would put an end to this weird little charade. “You want me to Google my boyfriend to prove that you’re playing a practical joke on me? Okay, fine. Whatever blows your skirt up,” she laughed.

  Bellamy no sooner had her hands over her keyboard when Jenna’s voice cut through the phone line attached to Bellamy’s other ear in a panic. “Wait, did Holly tell you to . . . wait! Bellamy, don’t—”

  Too late.

  Bellamy’s heart did the pitter-patter-holy-shit in her chest as her eyes focused on Channel Eight’s home page. The headline ANCHORMAN DEREK PATTERSON BIDS PHILADELPHIA A FOND FAREWELL splashed over a handsome headshot that was all too familiar.

  Her boyfriend was moving to California, and he hadn’t told her a damned thing.

  And don’t miss Donna Kauffman’s new series, The Bachelors of Blueberry Cove, coming next month.

  PELICAN POINT

  “Humor, heart, and characters you wish lived

  next door.”

  —Mariah Stewart

  Blueberry Cove, Maine, is as small-town as small towns get.

  More than a little quirky, it has sheltered generations of

  families. But there’s always room for a new face . . .

  Fixing things has always been Alex McFarland’s greatest gift and keenest pleasure. But with her own life thoroughly broken, she’s signed on to renovate the dilapidated Pelican Point lighthouse, hoping to reconnect with herself. The last thing she expects is to find herself falling in love—with the gl
orious coastline, with age-old secrets and welcome-home smiles . . . with rugged Logan McCrae, the man she just might be able to build new hopes on.

  DIY is so much better with two . . .

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  “Where There’s Smoke . . .” copyright © 2013 Donna Kauffman “The Gingerbread Man” copyright © 2013 Kate Angell “Sugar and Spice” copyright © 2013 Kimberly Kincaid

  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.

  Kensington and the k logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-0-7582-9088-5

  First Electronic Edition: October 2013

  ISBN -13: 978-0-7582-9089-2

  ISBN-10: 0-7582-9089-6

 

 

 


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