by Teri Wilson
Nothing.
He was pretty sure that Meghan Ashley and the producer, who apparently had family in Lovestruck, both shook his hand and thanked him for appearing on the show, but everything happened so fast, he couldn’t remember a word either of them had said. The cameras vanished, moving to the opposite side of the room in a flash, where a cookbook author was busy whipping up a gluten-free alternative to traditional tacos. A production assistant unclipped the microphone from his lapel, talking a mile a minute as she did so. When Jack tried to respond to a question she’d just asked, she shook her head and tapped the sleek black earpiece attached to her head. She hadn’t even been speaking to him.
No one was. The great mystery of Fired Up in Lovestruck had been solved, and apparently, everyone had moved on to something else with lightning speed. Jack had been longing for this exact scenario for weeks, but now that it was finally happening, he felt empty all of a sudden.
Empty...and more alone than he’d ever been in his entire life.
But what could he have possibly expected? It wasn’t as if Madison would see him on television, drop everything she was doing and come find him. That was so far beyond what he’d allowed himself to hope that it was laughable. He just hoped she’d somehow see the segment, or maybe read about it in the Bee. Perhaps her aunt Alice would send her a copy of the front-page article Floyd Grant was planning to run, wrapping up the whole saga of Queen Bee and Fired Up in Lovestruck with a nice, tidy bow. Jack had answered each and every question the editor-in-chief had asked him. He’d pledged his full cooperation in exchange for the most public platform possible to tell Madison how he really felt about her, and Floyd Grant had gotten him to New York and on television within three hours.
And now here he was, trying to navigate his way out of the maze of a national broadcasting company all on his own so he could get back to Lovestruck and his twins in time for his mom to get to her knitting class at Main Street Yarn.
A security guard took mercy on him, escorted him to the elevator and left him with directions on how to get to the exit. Once he reached the ground floor, he removed the name badge and security clearance from around his neck, returned them to the guard station and pushed his way through the smoked glass double doors.
The sun glinting off the surrounding skyscrapers was almost blinding. Jack stood for a second, disoriented by the city’s assault on his senses. Manhattan was everything that Lovestruck wasn’t—bustling, expansive, exhilarating. It thrummed like a great big beating heart, and he could see why Madison loved it so much. He knew better than to hope she’d come back to Vermont, and that was okay. Really, it was. He just wanted a chance to love her the way she deserved to be loved. They could make it work, somehow. He didn’t have a plan, but he was willing to move heaven and earth to figure it out.
If it was what Madison wanted.
If it wasn’t?
Jack’s chest ached as if there was nothing but a hole where his heart had once been. He didn’t want to consider that possibility—not until he was back in Lovestruck where he could lick his wounds and try and figure out a way to get on with his life.
He turned in the direction of the cabstand on the corner, but just as he took his first step, he thought he heard his name above the din of the honking horns, siren wails and street noises that were all part of the unique music of Manhattan. He paused, certain his mind was playing on tricks on him, because that lovely lilt had sounded an awful lot like...
“Madison?” He squinted into the sunlight.
And all of a sudden, there she was, walking toward him like something out of a dream—an angel with wind-tossed hair and eyes as warm as autumn in Vermont. Voice like a lullaby.
Her footsteps slowed to a stop about ten feet away from him. She looked smaller than he’d remembered, daintier somehow. And then he realized she was wearing flat shoes instead of the towering heels she’d always worn to wobble her way around Lovestruck. He studied them for a second, cocking his head, and when he looked back up, their gazes locked.
Jack reached into the side pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out the apple he’d brought with him—the one from the fire station. He offered it to her as if it was a Valentine. As if it was his heart.
Madison launched herself at him then, crashing into his arms with such force that he nearly toppled over. So he held on to her as tightly as he could, whispering each and every item from his list into her hair, not for an audience this time, but just for them. Just for her.
And when he was finished, right before she pressed her lips to his, she smiled and whispered the words that were the best sort of balm to his aching heart. “Take me home, hero. Take me home to Lovestruck.”
The Lovestruck Bee
Wedding Announcements
Jules/Cole
On Saturday, December 25, Madison Jules, familiar to readers of this newspaper as our parenting columnist and newly appointed fashion editor Queen Bee, married Lieutenant Jack Cole of the Lovestruck Fire Department. Lieutenant Cole is known nationwide as Fired Up in Lovestruck, devoted dad, letter-writing enthusiast and Queen Bee’s number-one fan.
The wedding took place at Lovestruck Community Church on Main Street, and was attended by Jason “Cap” Anderson, who together with Alice Jules, gave the bride away. The groom’s eight-month-old twin daughters served as honorary flower girls, while Toby the Chinese crested acted as ring bearer. The bride has asked us to be sure and note that Emma and Ella Cole were dressed in delicate white tulle by Vera Wang, a recent fan of Queen Bee and Fired Up in Lovestruck’s letters to the editor, and that Toby the dog “stunned in a hand-knitted dog tuxedo of angora yarn and a collar made from fresh flowers.”
Wade Ericson of the LFD stood as best man, alongside maid of honor, Felicity Hart of New York City. The reception was held at the Mansion on Orchard Drive, where guests dined on vanilla apple wedding cake with buttercream frosting and red-apple martinis.
The couple is registered at Sephora.
The Lovestruck Bee
The editor-in-chief has been asked to print the following correction to yesterday’s Jules/Cole wedding announcement:
Maid of Honor Felicity Hart is no longer a resident of New York City and now has plans to relocate to Lovestruck because “it’s as cute as a button and she’s always had a thing for firemen.”
* * *
Don’t miss Teri Wilson’s next book in the Lovestruck, Vermont miniseries, available December 2020 from Harlequin Special Edition!
Keep reading for an excerpt from More than Neighbors by Shannon Stacey.
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More than Neighbors
by Shannon Stacey
Chapter One
“Is that our new house, Mommy?”
Meredith Price might have sat in her sporty SUV, strangling the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers, until the sun went down if not for the tiny voice from the back seat.
“Yes, honey.” She killed the engine and unfastened her seat belt. Knowing that was the signal they were getting out of the car, the small white dog that had been napping next to Sophie leaped between the seats and into her lap.
“It’s small.”
Meredith hadn’t done the math, but she was pretty sure their new home was smaller than the garage area of the six-thousand-square-foot home they’d left behind. “It’s the perfect size for the two of us.”
Oscar yipped, as if to remind her there were three members of the Price family, and she tried to keep the fluffy bichon frise still long enough to clip his leash onto his collar. “Be still, Oscar.”
“I want to get out,” her daughter wh
ined.
“Hold on a second, Sophie. We can’t open the doors until Oscar’s leash is on.” She heard the frustration in her voice and took a long, slow breath. “Wait for me to open your door, okay?”
She couldn’t blame either of them for being anxious to get out of the car. The road trip from California to New Hampshire had been too much for a six-year-old and an energetic dog, even with more stops than Meredith had planned for.
Flying out and paying to have the car shipped probably would have made more sense, but driving cross-country had seemed like a grand adventure at the time. It had been an adventure, all right, though grand probably wasn’t the word she’d use for it.
Once she’d managed to get Oscar on the leash, she stepped out of the car and set the little dog on the ground. He immediately sprinted to the grass and lifted his leg, and Meredith heard the car door slam as Sophie got out. Within seconds, her daughter’s hand was tucked in hers as they both stared at their new home.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Forcing her expression to relax into a smile, she looked down at the sweet face that was a younger version of her own. They had the same long, thick dark blond hair and oval faces with noses that were just a little too small. “Nothing, honey. I’m just tired because that was a very long drive.”
“You look scared.”
“I’m not scared, silly.” She lied to her daughter because it was easier than admitting the truth.
Scared might be a strong word, but the anxiety and doubt that had been her constant companion since leaving San Diego only intensified as they walked to the front door.
The home she’d bought from three thousand miles away based on nothing but a video tour, her gut instinct and hazy, warm memories of growing up happy in Blackberry Bay, New Hampshire.
She punched the code the real estate agent had given her into the keypad next to the door. When the lock disengaged, she took another deep breath—they never really helped—and turned the handle.
Sophie bolted inside and, as soon as the door was closed and Meredith unclipped his leash, Oscar scrambled after her.
Meredith leaned against the closed door and breathed in the light scent of citrus, probably from whatever the cleaning service had used, and allowed herself to savor this moment.
This was the place she’d chosen to start over. Only four years old, the house was a small, single-story contemporary that was totally open concept except for the two bedrooms on the end, with a bathroom between them. The cream walls, hardwood floors and high-end finishes aligned perfectly with her taste, and because it was meant to be a summer getaway, it was furnished for comfort, with an overstuffed sofa and chairs in a pale blue.
The previous owners hadn’t wanted to deal with emptying out what had been a third home for them, so Meredith had been able to negotiate a turnkey price that included all the furnishings, right down to the comforters the owners had chosen to complement the bedroom wall colors—though she’d brought new sheets with her. She’d had her hands full with the San Diego house and had been happy to avoid having to choose between picking out furniture for a house three thousand miles away or waiting until they arrived.
It hadn’t been all practicality on her part, though. As soon as she’d clicked on the listing, she’d been interested in the house, but it was the interior shots that had her making an offer. The existing decor was all about peace and relaxation and light, and she’d fallen in love instantly.
It wouldn’t be a summer getaway for her and Sophie, though. It would be their home, and judging from Sophie’s excited chattering to Oscar, she’d chosen well.
“Wait,” she called when she spotted her daughter reaching for the handle of the sliding door leading out to the deck. “Oscar needs to be on his leash before you open any doors.”
Sophie was practically dancing in anticipation as she waited, and Meredith grinned at her before clipping Oscar’s leash on and pulling open the sliding glass door. This was the most animated she’d seen her daughter since Devin had died in a car accident two years ago, leaving her without a husband and Sophie without her beloved Daddy.
Meredith took in the expanse of water before her and it felt like a healing balm for her soul. Blackberry Bay was an offshoot from Lake Winnipesaukee, and it was just the right size for lake life, without the big, fast boats. There was a canoe off to her left, and to the right she could make out a group of stand-up paddleboarders.
She mentally added buying a small paddleboat to her list of things to maybe do. Devin had left them more than comfortable, plus the sale of their home had bought this house and its furnishings with quite a lot left over, so it would be many years before she had to worry about money if she was smart. And part of being smart was establishing a budget, even if one wasn’t technically necessary.
Eventually, once school had started and they were settled in, Meredith would figure out how she wanted to fill her days. She didn’t have to work, but she knew by then she’d want to, plus it would leave the majority of their accounts and investments untouched, except for the bigger expenses. Lakefront properties came with hefty tax bills, for one thing.
But it was worth it. The deck was made of a composite material that looked like wood, but wouldn’t splinter or peel. It spanned the width of the house and extended far enough out to have a patio set and a grill along with the built-in storage seating benches.
The stairs led down to the yard, which wasn’t big, but it had beautiful grass and sloped gently to a short strip of sand at the water’s edge. A wooden dock extended out into the lake, and at the end was a covered swinging love seat. Wildflowers had been planted around the dock, which Meredith hadn’t noticed in the photos and videos from the real estate agent.
As surprises in buying a house sight unseen went, unexpected flowers were definitely a good one.
“Be careful,” she called to Sophie, who had picked Oscar up and walked onto the dock.
Her daughter was a good swimmer, but the dog wasn’t. And now that they’d be living on the water instead of visiting it, they’d have to have a serious discussion about water safety.
“Who are you?” she heard Sophie ask, and Meredith’s head jerked up from the flower bed she’d been bent over.
A man was standing in the next yard, and he startled her enough so she didn’t chide Sophie for being rude. It was a valid question.
“I’m Cam,” he said in a deep voice that matched his outside. He was tall and broad shouldered, with dark hair and the kind of scruffy jaw that said the beard wasn’t deliberate, but more a result of not bothering to shave for a few days. And, while he was wearing jeans and loafers, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Judging by the pinkish cast to his light tan, shirtless wasn’t his usual state of attire. “Who are you?”
“Sophie. This is my new house. And this is my dog. His name is Oscar.”
“Hello,” Meredith said, drawing the stranger’s attention to her before Sophie could spill any more details.
“Hi.” He looked at her, and he was close enough so she could see the bright blue of his eyes. “In keeping with the theme, who are you?”
“My name is Meredith. Are you...a groundskeeper of some sort?”
It seemed like a legitimate question—working outside might explain why he wasn’t wearing a shirt when it wasn’t even hot—so she was surprised when he laughed. And even more surprised when she caught herself smiling because he had a great laugh.
“I’m not the lawn guy. I’m staying here for the summer.”
Meredith shook her head in confusion. “You’re renting this cottage?”
Unlike the old cottages that had been torn down to make way for the newer, much more expensive models, the summer home next door was original. And very colorful, if a little shabby.
The old clapboard siding was painted a pale pink and the trim was turquoise. The crooked window boxes, some of which had pla
stic flowers and little whirligigs in them, offered pops of color. It was essentially the total opposite of Meredith’s sleek, white cedar–sided contemporary.
“No, I’m not renting it. It’s mine.”
“The real estate agent told me Mrs. Archambault lived next door.” Despite having only vague memories of the older woman, she had been one of the reasons Meredith had chosen this house over two others. She wanted Sophie to learn to bond with people, and a grandmotherly neighbor would have been a good start.
His expression closed off. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”
* * *
Cam Maguire wasn’t sure what to make of finding a beautiful woman, a little girl and a tiny bit of fluff that he was pretty sure was a dog in the yard when he went outside to look for his grandmother’s cat.
He’d heard all the jokes about cats being real jerks and secretly plotting the demise of the humans who cared for them. He used to laugh at those jokes.
He didn’t laugh anymore.
“I don’t understand,” the woman—Meredith, she’d said her name was—said and he realized she was still confused about why he was living next door to her.
“The woman who lived here, Carolina Archambault, was my grandmother and she passed away recently. I guess it must have been after you talked to your real estate agent about the neighbors.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said, because it was the right thing to say. And he did feel a sense of loss.
It was his loss that he’d never met the woman who was his biological paternal grandmother and who had lived in this eccentric and colorful cottage by the lake.
“There you are,” he said to the extremely large and very long-haired black cat who sauntered into the yard as if she hadn’t disappeared for four hours to who knew where. And she had burrs in her tail again. Getting those things out of her fur made him wish he’d been a hockey goalie in college so he’d have the proper safety equipment for the job. “I’ve been looking for you.”
