The Veranda (Lavender Shores Book 3)
Page 23
Shit, all words left. Literally. All words, gone.
I forced my gaze back to Spencer. My mouth moved, but if any words came out, I couldn’t hear them.
He smiled, cocked an eyebrow, then knelt as well, still facing me. He whispered, “I’m pretty sure you’re getting ready to ask me to marry you. Remember?”
The mike must’ve picked up his words, as a rumble of laughter flitted through the audience.
I stared into his blue eyes, felt the coolness of the ring in my fingers, and everything else disappeared. The weird junkyard, the even weirder cat, and all the strangers staring at us.
“That’s true. I am asking you to marry me.” I held the ring out farther, and he took it. “I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And every day I’ve seen you since, I’ve fallen deeper and deeper in love with you. I have no doubt that will continue to be true over the years to come. I don’t want there to ever be a day without you by my side. I want to walk through this life with you hand in hand. I want to help raise the most beautiful children in the world with you. I want to sit with you every night on the swing as we drink wine and listen to the ocean in the distance. I want you. The real you and whatever comes with that.” My mouth went dry again.
Spencer’s smile didn’t waver, but a tear made its way down his cheek. “I want that too, my love.”
His whisper carried through the speakers once more, but this time there was no laughter.
I found my voice again. “Will you marry me?”
“You know I will.” He leaned in, capturing the back of my head with his hand, and pulled me into a kiss.
There were cheers from the audience, catcalls, and whistles.
Still, we kissed.
He had been worth the wait. Even during the times when I hadn’t realized I was actually waiting. Everything finally made sense. And, knowing him like I did, I was certain he felt the exact same way.
He broke the kiss, dropped his hand, and smiled. At some point during the kiss, all the cats had come back onstage and surrounded us.
The oddness of it all struck me once more, but it seemed rather magically wonderful at the same time.
Grizabella bent close and gave a twirl of her tail. “You forgot to put on the ring.”
I took the ring back from Spencer, he held out his hand, and I slipped the ring onto his finger.
The cats clapped their mitten-covered paws, some of them meowing while others cheered in their human voice.
Spencer leaned in once more, whispering that he loved me before capturing me in a kiss again.
Yes, it had all been worth the wait.
He had been worth the wait.
Founding Families
For full family trees and character lists, visit:
LavenderShores.com
The Kellys
Founders
Morris Kelly, Sr. & Gloria (Waits) Kelly
Descendants
*Debbra Kelly (1954)
(Morris and Gloria’s Granddaughter)
*Robert (Price) Kelly (1957)
m. 1981
Their Children
*Lamont Price (1975)
(Robert’s son from first marriage)
*Heather Kelly (1979)
(Debbra’s daughter from first marriage)
*Andrew Kelly (1984)
(Husband: Joel Rhodes)
The Bryants
Founders:
Jack Bryant & Lucy (Miles) Bryant
Descendants
*Patrick Bryant (1959)
(Jack and Lucy’s Grandson)
* Regina (Williams) Bryant (1961)
m. 1982
Their Children
* Hayley (Bryant) Wills (1984)
(Husband: James Wills. Children: Dillon, Jackson, & Olive.)
*Gilbert Bryant (1987)
(Husband: Walden Thompson)
*Lacy Bryant (1987)
*Connor Clark (1989)
(Adopted)
*Micah Bryant (1993)
The Carlisles
Founders
Anthony Carlisle & June (Paul) Carlisle , & Esther Smitt
Descendants
*John (Carlisle) Epstein (1942)
(Anthony & June’s Grandson)
*Wanda (Betts) Carlisle
m. 1976
d. 1981
Their Children
*Donovan Carlisle (1977)
(Partner: Spencer (Barton) Epstein)
*Shawn Carlisle (1981)
(Wife: Tiffany (Ruiz) Carlisle. Children: August & Jensen.)
The Epsteins
Founders
Saul Epstein & Ruth (Falk) Epstein, & Clint Riser
Descendants
*Kimberly Epstein (1967)
*John (Carlisle) Epstein (1942)
m. 1981
Their Childre:
*Nick Epstein (1981)
*Will Epstein (1983)
*Erica Epstein (1987)
(Husband: Spencer (Barton) Epstein. Children: Emma & Ethan)
About the Author
Rosalind Abel grew up tending chickens alongside her sweet and faithful Chow, Lord Elgin. While her fantasy of writing novels was born during her teen years, she never would have dreamed she’d one day publish steamy romances about gorgeous men. However, sometimes life turns out better than planned.
In between crafting scorching sex scenes and helping her men find their soul mates, Rosalind enjoys cooking, collecting toys, and making the best damn scrapbooks in the world (this claim hasn’t been proven, but she’s willing to put good money on it).
She adores MM Romance, the power it has to sweep the reader away into worlds filled with passion, steam, and love. Rosalind also enjoys her collection of plot bunnies and welcomes new fuzzy ones into her home all the time, so feel free to send any adorable ones her way.
Website: RosalindAbel.com
Website: LavenderShores.com
Author Note
Dear Reader:
Donovan and Spencer had such a long and twisting path to get to their happily ever after, and I felt very lucky to be able to share their story with you. I hope you enjoyed the journey. There’s much more romance and beauty to be found in Lavender Shores. Next month, Lamont finally gets his chance at love. However, this isn’t what he planned, not at all. He discovers a person truly does need to be careful what they wish for. Join him in The Shipwreck as he gets what he asks for and so, so much more.
Thank you so much for reading The Veranda. If you rejoiced as Donovan and Spencer found a way to finally fall into one another, I would greatly appreciate a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Please drop me a note on Facebook or on my website (RosalindAbel.com) whenever you like. I’d love to hear from you. Also for fun, hop on over to LavenderShores.com to have a behind the scenes peek at what the town looks like, read its rich history, and get to know the characters just a little better.
Much love, Rosalind
Acknowledgments
A special thanks to Devon McCormack, who never stopped answering my endless string of questions and was so gracious with my constant need of advice. So much gratitude to Poppy Dennison, Lucy Lennox, and Ashley McLoughlin for their grace and patience around all the ins and outs of self-publishing and talking me down from ledges.
Janie, thank you for the hours and hours you gave to beta reading and for the love you show my men.
Desi, you make me brave. AngstyG, you make me beautiful. A huge, huge thank you to all of the lovely souls who proofread the ARC versions of The Veranda and helped me look somewhat literate (in completely random order): Melissa Brus, Cinnamon, Kristell Harmse, Ron Perry, Rob Andresen-Tenace, Terri Grooms, Michael Bailey, Kelly Miller, TL Travis, Jill Wexler, Lucy Campbell, and Kelli Gordon. Thank you all, so very, very much!
A further and special thanks to some of my dear readers and friends who support my passion: Andrea Johnson, Fiona Wilson, Katie Pizzolato, Maggie Johnson, Marcia Gleason, Rob Andresen- Tenace, Robert Winter, and those of you who wanted to remain
anonymous. You make a huge, huge difference in my life and in my ability to continue to write. I’m humbled and grateful beyond belief! So much love to you all!
Love, R.A.
Also by Rosalind Abel
The Palisade, Book 1
The Garden, Book 2
The Veranda, Book 3
The Shipwreck, Book 4 (September 2017)
The Hideaway, Book 5 (October 2017)
Preview of the Shipwreck
The Shipwreck
Lavender Shores, Book 3
(Available September 2017)
Lamont Price’s romance novels have been a hit for the past ten years. With his gorgeous looks, kind heart, and tender disposition, Lamont is the darling of Lavender Shores. He’s the guy everyone wants to be their best friend, the guy everyone wants to protect. But even with his success and the love of his family, Lamont feels hidden from those around him. Maybe the first step is attending a writing conference and revealing the man behind his pen name….
Tyler Dixon survives off his beauty and charm. From cover model to runway fashion to weekend arm candy, Tyler’s prices aren’t cheap. While his appearance is taking him places, his life as an artist has little more than flatlined. When an author hires him to appear as the face of her brand, Tyler thinks it’s just one more job. Little does he know another writer is going to steal all of his attention.
Escaping the conference to find some breathing room, Lamont runs into Tyler at a bar. Casual conversation leads to Lamont revealing his family’s obsession with helping him find love. It’s not a big deal to Tyler, who has played the role of boyfriend for other people in the past. Before either of them can rethink the situation, Tyler is in Lavender Shores meeting Lamont’s family. Though they’re only pretending to be in a relationship, the chemistry that ignites between them is anything but imaginary.
Read an Excerpt from the Shipwreck
Lamont
A red-lit exit sign caught my attention. At the sight of it, some tension in my chest loosened. I could escape. Stride across the conference room, head out that exit, hop in my car, and drive back to Lavender Shores. Screw the car, with the levels of adrenaline coursing through my blood, I could just run.
Before the thought had fully formed, I discarded it. Even if I didn’t like this idea, I couldn’t let my agent down. I had committed to it. Sure, she’d used about every manipulative tactic in the world to get me to sign on for this particular career suicide, but I was the schmuck who’d agreed.
The exit sign winked. Literally. Like it could read my mind and knew I needed a little encouragement. And it had a point. Becca’s argument was that no matter how this played out, it was going to rock the romance-fiction world. It didn’t matter if it was well received or the scandal of the century. I was certain she was hoping for the latter. There was a lot of cash to be made amid the drama. So maybe I really could do something that gave us both what we wanted.
The exit sign winked again. It seemed to agree with the plan beginning to form. I really could steal away. I wasn’t the most famous author in the room, but a huge portion of the crowd had come to meet me. My first public appearance in my entire writing career. Surely disappearing and pulling a no-show would cause enough drama to satisfy Becca’s plan.
After a third wink, I realized the exit sign was in the midst of a malfunction, not offering clairvoyant support.
I looked back at the booth; a semitruck-sized banner with Ginger Peach’s signature was draped behind the table. In the few moments I’d taken to consider fleeing, the crowd in front of the panel had grown. Becca had been right; this would be big. However it went. I was going to end up on many readers’ blacklists, but the scandal would attract many more new ones.
Whatever. I didn’t need an exit sign’s approval to bail. This had been a horrible idea. The king of horrible ideas. I hardly liked leaving my house. The last thing I wanted to do was sit in the middle of a conference, be the center of hundreds of people’s attention, and shatter their illusion about their favorite author.
Making a final decision, I scanned the space for Becca. If she saw me heading toward the exit, I had no doubt she’d throw anyone out of her way and tackle me like she belonged in the NFL, seven-inch red stilettos or not. I didn’t see her, which was a bit of a miracle as she was always ten places at once. Time to make my move.
I took three whole steps to freedom, when a loud catcall filled the space, promptly followed by countless screams, whistles, and cheers. I turned automatically toward the disruption. A smaller crowd made a semicircle in front of Cheryl Lee’s booth. At the noise, many of the members of the Ginger Peach posse turned their attention there as well, several starting to walk over.
Then I saw why. And once I did, I couldn’t blame them. Nor did my feet remember that they had running away to do. Sprawled across the back of Cheryl Lee’s booth, was a banner a quarter the size of Ginger’s. It had Cheryl’s signature in neon pink, but the most prominent display was a row of seven book covers, each with the same nearly naked gorgeous man. In front of the banner, on top of the table where Cheryl Lee was signing autographs, a man raised his arms in the air and waggled his fingers, eliciting more screams from the crowd. He was just as stunning in real life as he was on the cover of her books. When the crowd had gotten rowdy enough, his smile turned devilish. He lowered his arms and began to pull off his fitted black T-shirt with the skill of a stripper. An expensive stripper. At that point, I was certain the screams broke the sound barrier and somewhere in the building, a wall of glass probably shattered.
And once again, I couldn’t blame them.
The man was walking sex. Which was a cliché so overused I refuse to put it in my own writing. But it really was the most apt descriptor for him. I couldn’t tell from where I stood how tall he was—maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, but at least six feet. Probably in his late twenties or early thirties, but still he managed to look like the all-American frat boy, football player, surfer, without looking like he was trying. Dark blond hair, flashing eyes—though I was too far away to catch the color—and chiseled jaw with a light dusting of scruff. He tossed the T-shirt into the crowd and rolled his hips. And that body. That body. Every inch smooth, every inch bulging muscle without looking like a steroid meathead, his skin a healthy glowing tan.
Standing in awe, I watched as he worked the crowd, walking back and forth across the table, reaching down to touch women’s hands, flexing, grinning, making more suggestive movements with his hips. He even made the cargo shorts he was wearing sexy, which I wouldn’t have believed possible.
The man clearly knew he was hot. He also clearly enjoyed everyone’s awareness of that fact. He made it look like it was killing him not to drop the god-awful cargo pants and give everyone what they really wanted. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a club, but if the go-go boys had looked like that, I might still have been there. He did the impossible. He strutted and gyrated around as if he was the hottest man to ever walk the earth, yet he smiled and laughed from time to time at something one of the closer fans said. He looked friendly and approachable. And like he was having just as much fun as all the women were.
He knelt, listening to something one of the women said, laughed again, and then stood. Maybe feeling my stare from across the room, his eyes flashed up to meet mine. Though that was a ridiculous notion; there were hundreds of gazes following him. No way he could feel mine. But he halted, just for a heartbeat. The only glitch I’d seen in his performance, if that was what it was.
He gave a smile and a wink, somehow managing to not look like a douchebag, and again astounding me with his ability to do the unthinkable. Then he refocused on the crowd, did a couple more passes across the table, and hopped down.
“Well, now that we’re done with that display, and what a display it was.” Becca’s voice cut through the noise. I glanced over at the booth, and there she was, with a mic in hand. Wonderful. Though her smile was bright and her voice chipper, I could tell from th
e strain in her eyes that she was annoyed at Cheryl Lee having her cover model prance around when Ginger Peach was getting ready to make her public debut. “It’s time to meet the author behind the magic. It doesn’t matter if the story is set in Seventeenth-century England, a local coffee shop, a werewolf den, or the backside of the moon, a Ginger Peach romance will sweep your heart away and make your toes curl.”
As she spoke, a murmur washed through the crowd, and they began to wander back over to Ginger Peach’s booth. Becca waved them forward, continuing to sing the accolades of her client. I quit listening, instead finding the exit sign. It had gone dark. No more winking. I wasn’t sure if it was telling me that escape was no longer an option or that I was getting ready to commit career suicide.
Shit.
“All right, ladies...” Becca faltered momentarily but quickly upped the charm, “and gentlemen—I see a few of you romantic sorts out there.” She took a step back and motioned toward the empty seat. “I give you… Ginger Peach!”