My parents’ tour of Civil War battlefields was a tremendous success, too. They became YouTube sensations, and schools began using their videos in history classes, which pleased my dad to no end. He’s now talking about doing a second tour, this time focusing on the Revolutionary War. I’m so proud of them both.
As for everyone else . . .Teddi and Shane got married six months ago. They’re blissfully happy, as I always knew they would be. Charlie and I hang out with them pretty frequently. Sometimes Lauren and Holly come over, too, even though Holly is now dating Kyle. They seem like they’re a good match.
Last week, I got an invitation to Jeremy and Tess’s wedding. I showed it to Charlie, and we both laughed, thinking of how thankful we are that I won a residency on Amerails, that while I was gone, Jeremy met Tess, and that I was stubborn enough not to pay the baggage fee at the airport that day.
Life’s funny. The things you think are the biggest disasters can turn out to be the most important opportunities for success, for the future . . . for love.
I thought about that last night. Charlie took me back to our favorite experimental gardens, and we stood on the hill at sunset. But after Charlie kissed me, instead of taking my hand and leading me back to the car as he usually did, he dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him.
I didn’t have to think very long, because I’ve learned that when happiness comes along, you grab it with both hands and say yes.
And that’s exactly what I did.
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She kissed a bunch of frogs. The exact number doesn’t really matter. But one day, she kissed one, and because she had magical powers, he turned into . . . the only man she could ever love, for the rest of her life.
And they lived happily ever after.
The End
Dear friends,
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Vivian and Charlie’s story. If you love a #MeetCute, I have terrific news: there are eleven more books in the #MeetCute series (year one). Each is by a different fabulous author, and they’ll be released once a month for the next year.
The next one up is Rene Folsom’s By Choice. You can read a little sneak peek at the end of this book.
To find out more about all of the #MeetCute Books, you can check out our website and our Facebook page, and sign up for our newsletter!
It’s all about the #MeetCute!
Love and kisses,
Tawdra
PS: Crystal Cove, the beach town Vivian and Charlie visit, is the setting for another of my series. The Crystal Cove Romances begin with The Posse and go through The Plan and The Path. More are coming soon! Check out my also by list to find these books and more at your favorite book vendor.
PPS: Please consider leaving a review on the vendor where you bought this book. It is hugely appreciated by the author—that’s me! And sharing with your friends about this book is also a wonderful thank you that I always appreciate. <3
Today I Met the Boy I’m Going to Marry Darlene Love
Can’t Help Falling in Love Elvis Presley
Calling You Blue October
Clumsy Fergie
First Time Lifehouse
I’m Into Something Good Herman’s Hermits
Balance Beam Blue October
Last year, at the end of Indie BookFest, I was driving home with my daughter Haley and my dear friend, author Gail Priest. We were just around the corner from my home when we spotted a turtle in the middle of the road. What happened next was very much along the lines of what you read here, with Vivian and Charlie . . . though Gail and I were not able to convince Haley to get out of the car!
It was that scene that inspired Vivian and the fifty frogs. I am grateful to Gail for graciously lending me her name, although the character of Aunt Gail isn’t completely based on her. In real life, Gail is happily married to her own sweetheart. The two Gails do have a few things in common, though: a cute dog (though Annie is pure Havanese!), a wonderful sense of humor, and a passion for theatre.
I also have to thank my two daughters for allowing me to use some of their dating experiences in this story. Although some of Vivian’s escapades may be hard to believe, each and every one is based on reality. I changed names, of course, and I tweaked a few details, but the basic framework is the same. Scary, but true!
Thank you as always to my fabulous book team: Meg Murrey designed this adorable cover, and I fell in love. Of course, Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats made the interior sparkle as only she can. So much love to both of these ladies!
And huge love and thanks to my fabulous Temptresses, who keep me going on a daily basis and prop me up when things get tough. Special thanks to Kara Schilling, Christy Durbin and Gail Priest for their beta work. So much appreciated!
It’s been quite a year here in Casa Kandle. If you follow me on social media, you might know that life has been filled with bumps lately on a professional level, including the elimination of my husband’s position at the church, leaving him without a job. This means that he’s been home with me nearly 24/7 . . . which has its challenges! This month, we celebrated our thirtieth wedding anniversary. I am so blessed to be married to a man who is my best friend, who supports me no matter what I do, and who still thinks I look exactly the same as I did thirty years ago. Every romance I write is inspired by him. Rough times come and go, but I couldn’t weather them without him.
I wish you the same kind of romance in your life. Kiss all the frogs until you find the one who makes you feel the tingle. And then keep kissing that one, for always.
THE SNAPPING OF MY CAMERA’S shutter was all I could hear over the low rumble through the crowded room. Several models shuffled around my equipment in any attempt to navigate within the dilapidated and cluttered quarters. We were crammed tighter than sardines, but the opportunity to shoot in this abandoned building was rare, and we just couldn’t pass it up.
I heard one of our Russian models curse as she managed to plow over the leg of my main light stand, effectively screwing up my lighting.
“For all that is holy, could you please watch where you all are going? I know it’s cramped, but kicking over the equipment is just going to slow us down!” I yelled as one of the set minions scrambled to fix the issue.
The run-down building was nestled in the trendy central Berlin district of Mitte and was once a swinging cabaret club. For decades, it sat alone and forgotten, hidden inside the courtyard of another property.
Fortunately, we were the first publication to be granted access for a full-blown photo shoot. Fashion photography in abandoned or run-down buildings was becoming a huge movement. Even though the models were less than thrilled to be ankle deep in eighty-year-old rubble, the scene was ingenious.
I could hear a male model in the other room complaining about yet another issue with his wardrobe. Honestly, the male models were way more of a challenge than the females.
Framing her in my viewfinder, my last female model of the day was wearing a white wedding gown and sitting along what looked to be a small stage. With an idea suddenly popping into my head, I grabbed the arm of one of our male models inching by and told him to go lay his head in her lap. The scene was perfect since he was only wearing a pair of slacks and dress shoes. No shirt was needed for a diamond-in-the-rough shot like this one.
The beautiful, leggy blonde with smoky eyes and silky curls looked elegant in contrast to the ruin around her. The small stage she sat on had a few wide, shallow steps leading down which allowed her to drape the dress and prop her leg on the top step. The muscular and slightly scruffy looking male model took a natural position on the next step below her, gently placing his head in her lap and looking up at her as if she were his reason for breathing.
“Can I get some moisture over here, Jimmy?” I called out to the set do-boy. Knowing exactly what I wanted, he quickly scuttled over to the male model with a squirt bottle of water and sprayed his muscles, neck, and face, making it look like the man was glistening with perspiration.
“
Perfect,” I whispered as I continued my triggered assault.
“Okay. Lean back on your right arm slightly and turn your head away from him, keeping your gaze down, as if you’re avoiding his passionate stare,” I instructed the blonde. She was a natural and took it upon herself to continue with several more heartbreaker poses.
I suddenly had a déjà vu moment with these two models. I noticed their faces seemed awfully familiar as I pulled the male model into the frame. Each time the shutter closed then opened within my camera, I saw hopeful visions—flashes of chance—tiny snapshots of their future together. It was as if putting them together in those mere few seconds of chance would break the ice and allow them to get to know one another. The promising premonition of their potential made me smile.
I was such a sap. Even though fashion photography wasn’t what I would have chosen for my career path, I enjoyed working with these models… mostly. So, when my visions saw them happy and healthy, I got all gooey inside. Of course, I would never admit my weaknesses to anyone. No one needed to know my soft side.
“That’s a wrap!” I yelled as I stealthily stowed my camera and the few other items I made sure to keep with me at all times. I brought my camera bag closer to my face and sniffed the fresh leather. God, it smelled so much more wonderful than the stuffy building and grime we were stirring up.
I probably looked like a nutcase for sniffing my bag.
“What do you mean it’s a wrap? Sofie, we still have a few hours left in here,” the set manager whined as I slung my bag over my shoulder.
“I don’t need a few more hours, Christy. I’m done. I got exactly what I needed,” I assured her while I began making my way out of the rubble.
“Ty is going to go bat-shit crazy if he gets wind you skipped out on this!” she hollered behind me as I continued to walk away.
I could have said something sarcastic and rather humorous, but Christy didn’t seem to get along well with my smug sense of humor. Without stopping, I turned and kindly said, “Just let me handle Ty.”
Tyson Bond was extremely handsome, very full of himself, a little hotheaded, and lucky me… he was my supervisor. Going to photography school with the infuriating man was tolerable, mainly because I could avoid him for the most part. But to have him as my boss was just icing on the craptastic cake. Even though he didn’t come with us to Berlin, he would soon find out I left the photo shoot early.
On my way to the shoot from my hotel this morning, I’d spotted a quaint little café and, now that I was free, I was dying to check it out, maybe grabbing a bite to eat and relaxing while there. My boots began an upbeat clopping rhythm along the wide stones of the sidewalk as I wrapped my scarf more securely around my neck and made my way back to the main square.
Without fail, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I had no doubt in my mind it was Ty. My stomach did a series of summersaults at the thought of having an intense man like Ty in my pocket.
Really, Fie? Get a grip. He’s a total asshat.
Still, I couldn’t help the smirk that found its way to my face as I answered.
“Well, hello, chief. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your masterly voice?” I chimed in an overly sarcastic tone as I continued to pound the cobblestone sidewalk with my boots, the air cool enough for me to see puffs of breath in front of me.
“Don’t be a smartass, Fie. Christy just called frantically babbling something about you leaving before the shoot was over?” he questioned in a rather calm but authoritative tone. His faded Canadian accent usually strengthened whenever he was agitated—or tired. I imagined being woken up in the middle of the night would do both, and yet his lilt on the word about still made me crack a smile. “I know I don’t need to remind you how much we’re shelling out for this gig.”
“Slow your roll, Ty. I nailed it. Not only did I work twice as fast as the other photographers, but I’m telling you, I completely captured what I was there to do. I’m heading for a quick bite to eat, and then I will upload my images to the server as soon as I get back to the hotel.” I paused as I listened to him breathe. He really did make my mind swim with some rather explicit thoughts. I shook my head to clear the image of him lying in bed, naked, looking like a sexy Jesus with mussed up hair, as I’m sure he was woken up by Christy’s unnecessary phone call. “You won’t be disappointed, Ty. I promise.”
“I know, I know. You’ve never disappointed me, Sofie. Honestly, I began laughing when I heard you bailed, knowing you probably had the shot and just felt you were finished. Although, it did earn me a few curses from Christy who mumbled something about unprofessionalism. She’s more hosed than anyone.”
“Then why did you call to give me shit, Ty? Got nothing better to do in the middle of the night?” I seethed.
“There’s nothing better than hearing your voice, Fie. You’re even more sexy when you bring that rocket of an attitude,” he said with a seductive rumble to his tone.
He always knew how to twist my stomach in knots. I may not have liked working with the man, but damn, his words and his body were always so alluring. Ty’s seductive act was probably the reason I didn’t like working with him. How did he expect me to control myself in a professional manner when he was making my stomach flip flop like a fish out of water?
“Fie?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said with a huff as I picked up the pace, my lungs burning from the cold, Berlin air. I could just see the small café peeking around the traffic a few blocks ahead.
“I know you think I’m sexy, too. You’re just too stubborn to admit it,” he coaxed with a sleepy drawl to his tone.
“I think you need to stop smoking that shit and go back to bed, Tyson,” I joked, even though I was attempting desperately to hide the smile in my voice.
“Ahh, I’m only high on you, sweetness,” he hissed as he emphasized the double ‘S’ sound.
“Now I know you’re full of shit,” I rasped as I deftly leaped over a small puddle beyond the curb.
Just as I began to cross the street toward the café, I suddenly bumped into something hard. Very hard. It panged against my cheek and temple, causing me to practically bounce back and my phone to go flying in the air, clattering to the uneven concrete and just barely missing another puddle of murky water. I knew my ass didn’t fare as well when I felt the freezing cold liquid seep into my jeans.
A slew of incoherent words and expletives hurled out of my mouth as I winced from the impact.
“Fluch! Sind Sie gut?” I heard a voice say as a strong set of fingers wrapped behind my neck. My German was anything but fluent; however, I could understand more than I could say. I though he’d asked if I was all right.
“Yeah, I’m… ahh . . .” I looked up into his beautiful, blue eyes, and I remembered he probably couldn’t understand me. So, I tried my best in his native tongue. “Ich bin gut.” Yeah, I butchered it.
A smile crept its way across his face as he arched a brow, pronouncing his strong jaw even more and making me forget I just made a complete fool of myself.
Damn. He is hotness personified. Germany has some serious meat.
“Either you hit your head harder than I thought, or your German sucks,” he said with a light chuckle. The sound of his laugh was even more captivating than his looks.
“Definitely the latter, but maybe both?” I said, touching my cheek and grimacing at the pain. My breath hissed between my teeth as I closed my eyes, sucking in the cool air.
Yeah, that’ll leave a mark. Geez, Fie. Such a fool.
I tried to sit up and brace myself with my other arm, continuing to scowl at the sudden ache in my hip.
“Damn. Here, let me help you up,” the handsome hero said as he lightly grabbed my elbow to help me to my feet. When I staggered, he suddenly swept me off the ground and carried me over to a nearby bench as if I were a feather-light child with a scraped knee.
“Oh, lord!” I squealed. “I can walk! I can walk!” I clamped my arms around his thick neck, digging my fingers i
nto his skin. I don’t know why I was worried he would drop me. He seemed to handle my weight with ease. But I still buried my face into his chest, and the action actually calmed me. He smelled of a spicy men’s deodorant and—was that fresh apple pie? I inhaled his warm, intoxicating scent and cringed slightly at the feel of my cheek hitting his hard muscles.
“No need to make you walk when I can just as easily carry you. Here,” he said as he gently sat me down on a nearby bench.
While watching him walk back over to get my camera bag and phone, I realized what I ran into—a damn streetlight post. The metal pole was at least eight inches in diameter and, being the total klutz that I was, my face decided to get intimate with the stationary object.
Handsome walked back over to me and handed me my phone first. Through the speakers, I could hear Ty’s frantic voice. I rolled my eyes at the idea of explaining my graceful meeting with the pavement to Ty.
“Sofie! What the fuck? Tell me you’re okay!” His voice was somewhat muffled and distant since I still didn’t have the phone to my ear. Never taking my eye off the handsome stranger, I decided to quickly pacify Ty and let him know I was fine.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just proved to all of Berlin that I am now an international walking disaster. I gotta go, though. I’ll call once the photos are uploaded.” Without waiting for his response, I pressed the red end button.
* * *
Like what you’ve read? Check out www.renefolsom.com/bychoice to grab a copy today!
Fifty Frogs Page 21
