Beach Love (Love Collection Book 4)

by Natalie Ann

“This house. This is the house that I spent the summer in with my grandfather.”

  “You’re kidding me,” she said, shutting her car off and getting out.

  “Trust me, I’m not. I didn’t recognize the address. I mean I was a kid back then and didn’t pay attention to those kinds of things.”

  “Talk about fate. It is over budget,” she said. “I know it was recently renovated in the past year. Some company bought it a few years ago and then they planned on flipping it. I’m kind of surprised it came on the market this late in the year when they’d get more for it in the spring.”

  “I’m not going to question it, but I’m making a full price offer.”

  She laughed at him. “Connor, you haven’t even seen it yet.”

  “I don’t need to. I know. I told you before. I have to feel it. I felt it then, I know I will again. But let’s go in.”

  They walked around the large house that was all new and sparkly now. A white kitchen of his dreams, new light hardwood floors, high ceilings. Pretty much everything he wanted...it was here. He didn’t need to go outside to see the beach, but did anyway. The moon was casting a glow over the water like it had so many years ago when he’d sat on that very beach and looked out pondering his future. Wondering how he could make a change in his life to earn his grandfather’s respect when all he wanted to do was make sure the man he loved and looked up to so much didn’t die on him.

  “Who owns this property? You said it’s a company.” He could stand here all night and listen to the sound of the water hitting the sand and the dock.

  “I shouldn’t tell you, but since you’re putting an offer in, you’ll see it on the paperwork.” She pulled it out of her binder. “It’s AL Holdings.”

  He burst out laughing. “That sly old dog!”

  “Do you know the owner?”

  “That’s one of my grandfather’s companies. Son of a bitch.” He picked her up and swung her around, then put her down. “Not fate, but another turning point. Marry me, Melissa.”

  “What?”

  “Just say yes. We’ll work the rest out. Tell me yes. Right here, right now.”

  “Yes!”

  The End!

  Did you enjoy meeting Sheldon and Erik? Read about their story in Finding Love

  Here is a taste of it.

  Prologue

  Sheldon laid her head against the window in her bedroom. She used to love sitting on this loveseat, but now it was just another reminder of the chaos in her house. Chaos, nah, not a good word. Turmoil. Angst. Anger. Yeah. Anger, that’s the word. At least between her parents. Well, more like her mom.

  For Sheldon, it was just distressing. More like stressful.

  “I’m over it,” Miranda Case said, making no attempt to lower her voice. “I’m sick and tired of your attitude.”

  “My attitude,” her father said. “You’re the one that’s always nagging.”

  Her mother snorted. “I nag because you don’t do anything, Rich. Nothing. You come home late, you eat, you go to your office and then you go to bed.”

  “What do you want me to do?” her father asked, his voice not loud, because he never raised his voice. Ever. Never got mad. Never did much of anything, just like her mother accused him of.

  “Something. Anything. Take out the trash. Wash a dish. Talk to Sheldon or me. See that we exist.”

  Her mother was stalking about the yard now, her arms flailing about, having no care that Sheldon could see and hear the whole conversation, or that the neighbors could for that matter. Her father, on the other hand, was calmly sitting in a chair reading a newspaper ignoring everything around him.

  “I know you exist. You never let me forget it.” Still not looking up from his paper. Not even when her mother walked over and snatched it out of his hand.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked. “I never wanted this. You know that.”

  “What?” her mother asked.

  “Marriage. A family. Nothing. I did the right thing and married you when you found out you were pregnant. I held up my end of the deal.”

  Even from the second floor Sheldon could see her mother’s eyes fill with tears, mirroring her own.

  “Deal?” her mother asked. “That’s what this has been for the last twelve years? A deal?”

  “What more do you want?” he asked.

  “Nothing. No, you know what? I do want one thing. You to leave this house. Go live with your girlfriend. You’ve been wanting to anyway and now you can.”

  Sheldon inched closer to the window, waiting to see her father’s reaction. Did he really have a girlfriend? Was that what this was about? How could he do that to her mother? Sure her mother nagged a lot, but she just wanted someone to pay attention to her. Maybe even love her.

  Not much different than what Sheldon wanted from her father.

  “Seriously?” her father asked. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Rich. Don’t lie to us anymore,” she shouted. “I’m not stupid and don’t play me off as such.”

  Her father stood up and stalked closer to her mother, the first she’d seen them get within a few feet of each other in longer than she cared to remember. “You want me to leave, then fine. I won’t fight it.”

  Her mother started to cry. “Admit it. Just admit it to me. That you’ve got someone else.”

  “Seems I don’t need to admit a thing when you’ve got your mind made up,” he said, then walked away. “I’ll pack up now and be gone within the hour. We’ll figure the rest out after you calm down.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, running after him.

  Sheldon couldn’t see them now, but she still heard her father say, “Exactly where you told me to go.”

  She could hear her mother sobbing on the back porch and her father opening and closing drawers in the room next to hers. She waited to see if he’d come and say anything to her. Say goodbye. Give her a hug. A kiss. Tell her he’d talk to her later. Maybe call.

  But all she heard was his car starting, then watched it pull out of the driveway.

  My Heroes

  “Cheers,” Melissa said, holding her beer up to Sheldon, the two of them clinking their glasses together.

  “I never thought I’d get it done on time,” Sheldon said, taking a big gulp, relishing the sweet tangy taste of a cold one on a warm spring day. Exactly what she needed.

  “Why did this one take so long?”

  Sheldon reached for a brownie and took a bite. “It didn’t feel right. I was almost done, actually doing the final read through and then I just changed it. Changed my hero’s characteristics, which then changed the whole dynamics. I’ve never done that before.”

  “Why now?” Melissa asked. “What was so different about this one?”

  Sheldon shrugged, then flinched when she felt heat in her stomach and put her beer down. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking alcohol and eating sweets on an empty stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate any real food.

  “He was too cynical. Then I couldn’t turn it around enough in my eyes. I needed him sweeter. Nicer. Not a pushover, but not so mean either. He ended up being mean and I don’t like writing my heroes that way.”

  Which was surprising because it wasn’t as if she really believed in sweet guys. Caring guys. Lovey-dovey or anything else. Though she wrote them that way.

  Actually, most of her life, all she’d ever been was cynical herself. She had no reason to believe in happy ever after. It’s not like she’d ever experienced it, or even seen it in person. Books and movies, sure. Real life? Nope. Not happening.

  Maybe that was why she could write it so well. It was all make believe anyway. She’d always had a vivid imagination...might as well make a living off it.

  The problem with this last book was, she made the hero too nasty. Too cynical. More like she was. She was smart enough to know not many wanted to read that. Not for the series she was writing. Not unless she could make the hero find his
faults, and she couldn’t.

  Love and happy ever after sold books.

  Sweet, caring, strong men were desired.

  Hot muscular men sought after.

  Assholes, not so much. Her last hero was an asshole and there was no saving him.

  “Well, it’s over with. Now you can relax for a while before you start the next one.”

  “A few weeks. I need the break,” Sheldon said. “This one really wrung me out. Next time I won’t try to make my hero so rough to begin with.” Rough was fine. Was even good. Being a dick wasn’t. She wasn’t sure why she even attempted it this time.

  Well, that was wrong. She knew why she attempted it. Before she started this book almost two months ago—plenty enough time to meet her deadline—she’d gotten a call from her father. She hadn’t heard from him in months. He wanted to make amends in his life. She’d brushed him off.

  Then she felt guilty. But rather than call him back and find out what was going on, she decided to funnel all that pent-up anger and childhood memories into her book. Cynical men. Assholes. Pricks. Yep, her father inspired that one.

  Stupid on her part to let him affect anything in her life at this point.

  And thinking of her father made her stomach hurt again. Strong enough that she brought her hand down and around her stomach and ground her teeth.

  “Hey,” Melissa said. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I noticed my stomach hurting a few weeks ago. It comes and goes. But this is the worst it’s been. Maybe it’s the alcohol.”

  “When was the last time you ate something?” Melissa asked, eying her hard. Melissa was her best friend and knew her better than anyone. They’d lived on the same street for the two years since Sheldon moved to Kent Island. The bottom part of Kent Island. Not that the Island was all that big, but she liked being a little out of the way.

  The development she lived in made her feel like she wasn’t so alone, but it was far enough away that she didn’t have to deal with too much interference from the outside world. Everything she needed was less than a twenty-minute drive whether it was on the island or off. Good enough for her.

  “I just had a bite of that brownie,” Sheldon said, grinning, then grabbing her side again. Wow, a grin caused it to hurt. Burn. Like fire. Not good.

  “Besides the brownie,” Melissa said, putting her own beer down, standing up, and walking away to look in Sheldon’s fridge. She wouldn’t find much there.

  “Crackers. Maybe last night. I don’t remember.”

  “How much coffee have you been drinking?” Melissa asked, opening and closing cabinets. Yeah, they were pretty bare too. It’d been what, two weeks since she went to the store.

  “You want it in cups or pots?”

  “Sheldon!”

  “Deadlines,” she reminded Melissa.

  “Let’s go,” Melissa said.

  “Where?”

  “Urgent Care.”

  “It’s just a stomachache. I’ll get some food in me and be fine.”

  “It’s not just a stomachache because there’s nothing in your stomach to ache. Nothing but caffeine and probably acid.”

  Sheldon glanced at the clock. “Urgent care has been closed for two hours. I’ll make some toast and it’ll be fine. If not, then I’ll call my doctor tomorrow.” But when Sheldon stood up to find some bread, she doubled over in pain. “Maybe I’ll just sit here until it passes instead.”

  “Nope. We are going to Queenstown.”

  “I don’t want to go to the emergency room,” she whined.

  “Too bad. Maybe you should have taken better care of yourself instead of playing with your fictional characters.”

  “I should teach them to cook for me. Then I’d be fine,” Sheldon said laughing, then grabbed her side again. Yeah, she wasn’t being stupid; she knew something was wrong. Time to listen to Melissa.

  “Move, or I’m carrying you. And we both know then I’d need to be seen in the ER too.”

  “Are you calling me fat?” Sheldon said laughing. The two of them barely weighed two-fifty combined, with Sheldon being five foot five and Melissa five foot three.

  “Please. Don’t be cute. You couldn’t be fat if you wanted to be. It’s not fair you’re lighter than me and taller.”

  “Five pounds and two inches. Get over it.”

  “It’s probably more than five pounds now. So move it.”

  “Geez. Why didn’t I know you could be this pushy,” Sheldon said, but she started walking just the same. Thankfully the burning pain had subsided enough for her to move.

  This wasn’t exactly how she planned on spending her night celebrating.

  ***

  “Dr. McMann, there’s an abdominal pain in three.”

  “Thanks,” he said, moving away from the nurse’s station with his laptop in his hand. He scanned over the chart before he pushed the curtain aside. “So you’re having abdominal pain today?” He looked up and saw a young woman on the bed, her knees up to her chest, her feet bare. She had a pair of extremely tiny shorts on, not covering much of her toned thin legs.

  “Yes,” she said, her face pale and a little sweaty.

  “When did it start?”

  “A few hours ago.”

  The friend sitting next to her snorted. “More like weeks ago, but Sheldon keeps ignoring it.”

  “You are?” he asked the woman sitting in a chair next to the bed.

  “Melissa Mahoney. I’m Sheldon’s best friend. She lies. Don’t believe anything she says.”

  Erik looked at his patient on the bed, frowning at her friend now. “What the heck, Melissa.”

  Her friend just laughed. “Sorry, Dr....” She paused and looked at his lab coat. “Dr. McMann. Sheldon likes to play down things. I’ll be honest. Her pain has been on and off for weeks, but tonight she doubled over with it. If I didn’t all but drag her by the hair to get her here, she’d still be at home trying to eat some toast.”

  “Toast?” Erik said. “Is that the last thing you ate?” The pain might be passing, because his patient’s face was turning pink rather than ghostly white.

  “No,” Sheldon said. “I had a bite of Melissa’s brownie before my stomach started to hurt.” She turned her head and glared at her friend. “Maybe you caused it.”

  “Ha. You wish.” Melissa turned to him. “She hasn’t had much more than crackers and coffee by the gallon for the last two weeks.”

  “Hmm,” he said. He wasn’t sure what to make of these two. The friend was being honest, which was helpful. Sheldon was glaring at her like she wanted to ring her friend’s neck, yet there was something underlying too. A teasing of sorts. Not his concern right now. “Why aren’t you eating much? Are you under a lot of stress? Other abdominal issues?”

  “I had a deadline to meet. It’s my own fault. I wasn’t taking care of myself. I’ll admit it. But I met my deadline and can just relax for a few weeks now. I’m sure it’s nothing. Once I get some food in me, I’ll be fine.”

  “Real food,” Melissa said.

  “You brought over the brownies and beer. Maybe you should have cooked me dinner.”

  “So you were drinking alcohol too?” Erik asked before the two of them could go at it again.

  “A sip,” Sheldon said.

  “She’s telling the truth,” Melissa said.

  “Okay. Lie back and let me examine you.” Sheldon stretched out on the bed as best as she could and he lifted her small T-shirt up a bit, then started to press around on her belly. When she flinched, he held his hands there. “Tender?”

  “Yeah.”

  He tugged her shirt back down. “Any other symptoms? Heartburn? Vomiting? Diarrhea?” He paused when both women let out a laugh. “Am I missing something here?”

  “No,” Sheldon said. “Melissa is like a ten-year-old. She giggles at all bodily functions and words. I knew she would so I did too. It’s a knee jerk. And no to all of your questions. Just pain. Maybe a little bit of an acid taste. I guess tha
t’s heartburn, but I’ve never had it before.”

  He nodded his head. “I’m going to have some blood drawn, then send you for an upper GI and some X-rays.”

  “What do you think it could be?” Sheldon asked.

  He closed the lid on his laptop. “Well, Ms. Case, I’m not sure what type of deadline you had to meet, but my guess is your job is extremely stressful and you’ve got an ulcer. You might need to consider a new career.”

  Both girls burst out laughing. What was he missing now?

  “I’m self-employed, Dr. McMann. My job isn’t stressful in the least.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. “I’d say the fact you are sitting in the ER might suggest something else.”

  “Well, see what those tests say first,” Sheldon said. “But in this case, my career choice doesn’t have a lot to do with it, I’m positive.”

  “And your career is?” He hadn’t seen it on her chart.

  “I write romance novels. Love and happy ever after. Not a lot of stress in that.”

  He wasn’t expecting her to say that. Not that he knew what a romance writer looked like, but it wasn’t her. Her chart said she was twenty-seven, but she looked younger.

  Maybe he expected sophistication with a writer and not someone in jean shorts, flip flops on the floor next to the bed, a tiny T-shirt and her hair in a ponytail. Her friend didn’t look much different.

  He was going to dispute her claim about stress, but figured for the moment it wasn’t his concern. He was just going to run his tests and get the results he was expecting to find.

  “Well then. The nurse will show you where to go for the tests and I’ll put a rush on the results. We’ll get you as good as new so that you can get back to writing those love stories,” he added, smiling, then winking.

  When he walked beyond the curtain he heard them laughing again. Did he really just say that? And wink at her?

  What was wrong with him?

  Want to read more of the Love Collection?

  Secret Love:

  Vin Steele has always been in control. Always been a leader. Failing at what he always did was a bitter pill for him to swallow, sending him into an isolation…of sorts. A new life and a new career, trying to find the person he lost.