Invitation to Love

by Lee, Groovy

  INVITATION TO LOVE

  BY GROOVY LEE

  INVITATION TO LOVE © GROOVY LEE

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My deepest gratitude and thanks go to my daughters, Remi and Nina, whose strength and belief in me made this journey possible.

  And to Rene Marcus, who was there from the beginning, even when my writing was crappy. If everyone who reads my novels loves them as much as she does, I’d be a trillionaire. Her love and devotion to my stories gave me the energy to keep improving.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Taryn Kimble sat on a Florida beach staring straight ahead; her arms braced behind her; legs stretched out and crossed; her thick towel protecting her from the grains of warm sand beneath her. Nothing, not even the awesome blue of the ocean that lay before her, could erase the bits and pieces of last week’s drama from her mind: “It’s not six o’clock, yet”…”Can’t they finish eating before you yank them away?”… “I’m not going to force them to come with you, either. As a matter of fact, maybe I’ll keep them another week. What do you think a….?”

  The wrathful face behind those words has been dominating every other thought the entire vacation; That of Mac, her despotic, former, father-in-law standing in his doorway blocking her from taking her eight year old twin daughters home from their weekend stay-over. When she pulled her cell phone from her bag and pressed nine to show him just how serious she was, he muttered a few choice words then stepped aside. Call it what you want, payback, or just plain spite, he means for her to pay for the death of his son three years ago.

  And does it bother him one bit that he’s using the girls in his quest to exact revenge? (Is the earth flat?) For her part, she’s done everything possible to maintain a peaceful relationship with him for the sake of his granddaughters. And yet, it seems the harder she tries, the more difficult he becomes.

  Dark clouds moving in from the Gulf, shadowing everything in their path, caused her to squint up and watch as they roamed inland. The sun, refusing to be daunted by their intrusion, spiked its rays through their thick core, glistening upon the gray waters. How so like her life that is: Mac, the menacing clouds luring over her life; and she, the sun trying to be the shining peace between them.

  Just then, a worn pelican bobbed from the sky and landed with a plop into the fitful waves. She sat captivated as it rested and dipped its chipped beak into the water in search of a meal. They’ve been in Florida for almost a week now, spending their days on different beaches—a temporary escape from her troubles. Monday, it was the Pass-a-Grille beach; Tuesday, the St. Petersburg beach; yesterday found them on Medeira beach; And today their adventure ends on Treasure Island. She exhaled a sigh of thankful relief. What at first was wide-eyed excitement at the enormous ocean whose rim extended over the end of the horizon, and tepid sand between toes, has now dimmed to repetitive waves and the wet smell of marine life. Tomorrow they’ll head for Orlando and spend the last three days of vacation at Universal Studios. Then it’s back home to Nashville.

  “Oh, God,” she groaned, her head dropping in despair. She misses home, but not the problem sitting on the front porch waiting for her.

  “Momma, Momma.”

  She looked up and focused on her daughter running toward her; her bright-orange swimsuit with tiny mermaids intensified her thin, sun-browned body. “Remi,” she brushed at the bits of sand thrown on her by the girl sliding down to the towel. “Did you have to create a sand storm?”

  “Sorry, Momma,” she replied with a slight twist of remorse on her face. “But I want to show you something.”

  Taryn watched as her fingers unfolded to reveal the soft-pink shell nestled in her palm. “It’s beautiful.”

  “They’re all over the place,” her brown eyes widened with glee. “I’m going to collect a bunch of ‘em and make an aquarium for Mr. Green Jeans when I get back home.”

  Taryn smiled at the mentioned of Mr. Green Jeans, a pet turtle now in the care of a neighbor—Remi’s gift for passing to the third grade last year. “I’m sure he’d love that. Where’s your sister?”

  Remi pointed ahead toward the shore. “She’s still out there splashing in the water.”

  Taryn searched through the crowd, pass the little red-head running from the waves, and the gray-haired man with the rotund stomach trudging like a soldier for the deep part of the ocean, until she spotted the identical lime-green swimsuit on Remi’s twin sister, Rachel, playing with a newfound friend.

  “Do you have something I can put my shells in?”

  “I think I can find something for you,” Taryn pulled a floral paper cup from one of the red canvas bags and handed it to her.

  She tilted her hand and allowed it to slide in. “Thanks.”

  “Remi,” Taryn held on to her wrist when she jumped to her feet. “Don’t stray too far. I want you in eyesight. Do you hear?”

  “I hear,” she blew and bolted off.

  Taryn was in the midst of telling her to return soon for lunch. Instead, all she could do was close her mouth, shake her head, and retrieve a soda from the blue and white cooler beside her. The can hissed with relief as she pulled the metal tab away. As she sipped, she caught sight of Rachel strolling toward her.

  “Mummie,” she plopped down on a corner of the beach towel. “I’m thirsty. Can I have a soda?”

  “May,I.”

  “Yes, you may. And me, too,” she giggled, exposing the tiny gaps in her teeth.

  Taryn ruffled her light-sandy head of massive curls then pulled out another can of soda, opened it, and handed it to her. “Having fun?”

  She guzzled a huge portion of the orange liquid before answering. “I guess.”

  “Well, that’s certainly a big change from the last few days,” Taryn’s brows formed a curious lift. “Where did all that excitement go?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I kinda lost it.”

  “I know what you mean, sweetheart,” she smoothed back the wet strands of hair from her daughter’s forehead. “It’s time for new adventures, wouldn’t you say?”

  Rachel’s eyes lighted with a sudden burst of elation as she looked at her mother. “I can’t wait to go to the Universal Studios.”

  “I bet you can’t,” Taryn laughed out, then glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s almost twelve-thirty. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too,” Rachel nodded eagerly.

  I’m sure Remi’s hungry, as well.” She looked down to where she last saw her, but, of course she’s not there. Remi has a knack for easily forgetting any rule she feels too restricted by. Well, wherever she is, Taryn could only hope she hasn’t managed to get herself into some sort of trouble, which she has an even bigger knack for. “Rachel, would you do me a favor and go find her for me? She went in the direction of the refreshment trucks.”

  Rachel got up and skipped away through the crowd. While Taryn waited for their return, she took the paper plates and napkins from the bag and stacked them by the cooler. Since there was an overcast, she decided to close the umbrella and put it away. She was sipping the last of her soda when Rachel came speeding back.

  “Mummie, you’d better come,” she cried breathlessly, bracing her hands on her knees and panting.

  Taryn felt her heart skip, the empty can slid from her hand. “What’s Remi done now?”

  Rachel swallowed hard, then, “She stepped on this man’s glasses and crushed them to piec
es. I don’t think he liked it too much.”

  “Oh my goodness,” she snatched her sunglasses from the top of her head and threw them onto the towel before hurrying off behind her daughter.

  Rachel was the first to reach the spot where Remi stood with her head lowered and her shoulders slumped. Seated on a dark-blue beach towel before her, was a toned body in gray jogging pants. Taryn slowed her pace as she approached the scene, rehearsing an apology over and over in her mind. Eyes, the shade of rich cocoa, looked up, eliciting a smile from her before she turned to address her daughter.

  “I said I was sorry. It was an accident,” Remi responded to that familiar look of displeasure from her.

  Taryn inhaled a few calming breaths before turning to make her amends. Just as she opened her mouth to begin her apologies, her prepared words died quickly at the sight of the stranger’s shameless exploration of her curves. She closed her eyes and held her breath for a mere second to regain her serenity. Today of all days, she picked this one to wear her black and purple Grecian swim dress with green vine prints running all over it.

  What possessed her to do it? That over-sized chocolate bar from last night? A silent dare to all the vanity surrounding her?

  She slyly pulled at the skirt as if that would cover everything, including her frustration and shame. “I…I’m sorry. Remi can be so careless at times. I’ll pay for another pair.” Her eyes slid over his Jet-black hair, down his smooth-shaven jawline, before resting on the twisted metal of three-fourths of his glasses dangling from his lean fingers. His arms were clasped around his legs, and in between the fingers of his other hand was the broken stem.

  “As I told your daughter here, there’s really no harm done,” his masculine voice assured her. “I had them lying where anyone could step on them. My fault, entirely.” He turned that one-sided alluring grin from her to Remi, and in an even deeper tone added, “I’m just glad they weren’t on my face at the time.”

  Rachel broke into a giggle, causing Remi to do the same.

  That image garnered a slight chuckle from Taryn, as well. (Thank goodness he has a sense of humor.) “I appreciate your kindness. Just tell me how much they cost, and I’ll reimburse you.”

  When the stranger uncurled his legs and stood, the waist line of his jogging pants sagged around his well-defined abs, causing her to make a brief, yet very interesting study of them.

  “Nonsense,” he waved her words off. “Like I said, my fault entirely. By the way, my name is Michael Vande-xx.”

  “Taryn Kimble,” she shook the hand he offered. “And these are my daughters, Rachel, and of course, you’ve met Remi. Say hello, you two.” After their greetings were done, she took a deep breath and, “Again, thank-you, Mr. Vande-xx.”

  “Call me Michael.”

  “Okay—Michael.” Her tongue outright tripped over that. “Uh—are you sure you won’t accept payment for the damage?”

  “Quite, sure.”

  “Well, then it was nice meeting you. Come on, girls,” she motioned for them. “We should be on our way. Say good-bye.”

  “Sorry I stepped on them” Remi waved, and received a wink in return. “Bye.”

  “Good-bye,” Taryn gathered her girls and guided them away, all the while willing herself not to look at that handsome face and toned body again as she trailed after them. But after a few steps, her sandal-clad feet began dragging through the sand. “Keep walking, Taryn,” she mumbled to herself. “You apologized. He said it was okay. Just keep walking and don’t look back. He’s too good looking, and you know the type.”

  As much as she tried not to, her stubborn curiosity had her glancing back to see that he was still admiring her with a suggestive smile gracing his face. A warm flush rose from the pit of her stomach. She looked away and tried to move on. But, how can she leave it like this? Remi broke the man’s glasses. Surely, there must be something she can do to make up for it. If he won’t accept money, she could offer lunch. He’s alone. Maybe he’d care for some company.

  He wouldn’t think she was trying to pick him up. Just see it for the kind gesture she means it to be. Right? Besides, she’s a mother—of twins. That’s not his style. Once they’re out of sight, he’ll probably spray himself with anti-kid bacterial solution, and laugh at the memory of her granny attire. Still, she can’t leave it like this and just walk away. It would bother her all the way back to Nashville. At that moment, she stopped in her tracks. As she turned to face him, she cleared her throat for courage.

  “Uh, Mr. Vande-xx—Michael, I mean. Are you by any chance here with someone?”

  “No,” was his simple reply.

  “Then would you care to have lunch with the girls and me? I really feel I have to do something to make up for your broken glasses.”

  He peered down at the pieces lying on his towel, then cocked his head and awarded her with that half-sided charming smile. “Then how can I refuse.”

  He picked up a cotton t-shirt and slid his arms through the sleeves. As he lifted them to stretch it over his head, the light of day seem to illuminate right on his smooth chest and length of his frame. Her shameless gazing lingered on his pure maleness, filling her with a surge of exhilaration. Only when he began collecting his few belongings could she break the trance.

  “Are you vacationing?” he asked as they strolled toward her spot.

  “Yes. The girls and I have been here for about a week visiting the different beaches, and soaking up this unhealthy sun.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Nashville, Tennessee.”

  “Oh.”

  “What about you?” she studied the profile of his chin, along the proud angle of his nose, to his hair being stroked by the salty wind blowing from the Gulf. “Where do you hail from?”

  “Los Angeles.”

  “Really. I’ve always wanted to go there. It seems so beautiful from the television’s point of view; Not to mention the movie stars, and the excitement of the movie industry. There was a time I wanted to live right in the middle of Hollywood.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “Oh, finances for one,” she shrugged and gazed out over the vast ocean. “Family circumstances for another.”

  “I take it your husband doesn’t like the idea of going west?”

  The mention of Collen had her mouth twisting rather sternly. “No, he didn’t like the idea one bit. He was afraid of waking up one morning and finding the house floating in the Pacific. Then he’d harp about the earthquakes. His family’s roots are in Nashville. And as long as he’s breathing, that’s exactly where they’ll stay.”

  Michael’s brows lifted from the unexpected masculine impersonation of those last two sentences. “Is he here with you today?”

  “No,” was her half-hearted reply.

  “Don’t tell me he’s off enjoying other sights, and left you here alone because all this water makes him nervous.”

  She met his questioning stare with a serious one of her own, and mouthed the words that filled her with slight anxiety each time she had to say them: “Collen’s dead.”

  The witty smile died from Michaels lips, but the spark in his eyes remained. “I’m sorry.”

  “I hope you don’t think me cold when I say I’m not.” She then closed her eyes and exhaled. “I didn’t really mean that. This is the second time today I’m apologizing to you.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he tilted his head closer to hers, a note of compassion in his voice. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  “Thanks. Well, anyway, here we are,” she gestured down to the huge beach towel where Remi and Rachel were already bent over the lunch sacks, trying to pick out what they wanted to eat first.

  “Momma,” Remi’s face was completely emerged in one. “Where are the Snickers Bars?”

  “They’re in the cooler. But, you know you can’t have one until you eat your sandwich first.”

  “I know,” she blew.

  “I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy,” Ta
ryn said to Michael. “You have your pick of ham or turkey.”

  “Turkey,” he said and began spreading his towel beside theirs.

  Remi retrieved a ham sandwich and soda then sat on the border lines of each towel. Michael sat on one side of her, Taryn on the other. She was quite surprised when a usually shy Rachel dropped down next to him also, her legs folded, her lunch spread out ready to be devoured.

  “Are you here on vacation just like us, Michael?” Remi muffled through a mouthful of bread and ham.

  “Mr. Vande-xx,” Taryn reminded her.

  “Mr. Vande-xx.”

  “She can call me Michael. And yes, I’m sort of vacationing. I came here on business, also.”

  “What kinda business?”

  “None of yours,” Taryn reproved.

  “It’s okay,” he was quite assuring. “I don’t mind telling her. I’m an architect. Do you know what that is?”

  “You draw buildings,” Rachel answered before her sister had a chance to.

  “That’s right. I designed an apartment complex for a client, and I came to check on the finishing touches.”

  “Oh,” Remi swallowed another portion of her sandwich and a swizzle of her soda, then, “Are you married?”

  “Remi,” Taryn almost choked on her drink. The urge to clasp her hand over her daughter’s mouth and keeping it there for the rest of the day was enticing; Although, she’s just as curious to hear the answer herself.

  Michael threw his head back and laughed. “No, Remi. I’m not married.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael,” Taryn offered him a napkin. “She’s very inquisitive at times.”

  He ruffled her already tangled hair. “All children are.”

  Taryn knew that Remi’s sudden interest in her sandwich was her way of not having to acknowledge her, and receive one of those looks.

  “What about you, Taryn? What kind of work do you do?”

  “Up until two months ago, I was an office manager slash bookkeeper for a small publishing company. But, it finally had to close its doors. So, now I’m unemployed.”