One Summer

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One Summer Page 1

by JoAnn Ross




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Teaser chapter

  THE HOMECOMING

  PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF JOANN ROSS

  The Homecoming

  “Quintessential Ross with a terrific romance [and] mystery. Not to be missed.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “A charming story of family, old friendships, and new love . . . I eagerly await the next Shelter Bay novel.”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “Ross has again hit a homer . . . an outstanding job.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “One of the best books I’ve read this summer. . . . Ms. Ross penned such emotion into her story line and created characters that you easily fall in love with.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “The Oregon coast has no better publicist than JoAnn Ross, and starting over can be as invigorating as a breeze coming off the ocean bringing the love of our life.”

  —Bookreporter.com

  “It isn’t often readers find characters they’re willing to spend a weekend with. However, that’s exactly what Ross accomplishes . . . enveloping the reader in the lives of two endearing, albeit flawed, characters . . . an entertaining stay in Shelter Bay.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Ross always delivers a wonderful story but this one delivers even more than expected. Masterfully plotted and executed, this book kept me engrossed from beginning to end.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Breakpoint

  “This hot novel has everything a reader might want in romantic suspense, from sexy, complex characters, to a fascinating setting and intense intimacy.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “Fire and ice make for an incendiary mix. . . . Brava!”

  —Romantic Times

  “An action-packed thriller that never decelerates until the finish . . . one of the better high-octane sagas on the market today.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Crossfire

  “The plot is riveting, the characters sizzle, and the ending will blow you away. Trust me, you do not want to miss Crossfire. But keep in mind, once you pick it up, it’s impossible to put down.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “[A] can’t-put-down-forget-the-housework-cereal-for-dinner book. The chemistry between Quinn and Cait screams off the page and practically singes your fingers.”

  —Romance Junkies

  Freefall

  “A page-turning mix of danger, suspense, and passion.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen

  “A romantic thriller that sizzles with passion and danger . . . a page-turner leading up to an ending you must read to believe. What an incredible story!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “An intense thriller . . . the perfect edge-of-your-seat mystery. JoAnn Ross is one author who delivers and will most definitely blow you away.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “All the patented Ross sizzle and drama!”

  —Romantic Times

  No Safe Place

  “Sizzles with the sensuality and danger fans of her romantic thrillers have come to expect.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A page-turner. . . . Hop on the Ross Express for a lightning ride.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard

  “A spellbinding read . . . I was blown away. An amazing author, and this latest story proves it once again.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Impulse

  “[A] great love story with all the thrills and chills that will have the readers coming back for more.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “Spine-chilling . . . a good mix of suspense and romance.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Richly drawn characters, a powerful story, and a heart-stopping ending.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Blaze

  “Seamlessly plotted. . . . Ross keeps the heat on right to the last page.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Out of the Storm

  Out of the Storm sizzles! A captivating and entertaining blend of romance, mystery, and suspense.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Out of the Blue

  “[An] adventurous, exhilarating story. Danger and intrigue are a constant presence. Highly passionate . . . outstanding.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “The best kind of romantic suspense: heart-stopping terror and a heart-tugging romance.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  River Road

  “Skillful and satisfying. . . . With its emotional depth, Ross’s tale will appeal to Nora Roberts fans.”

  —Booklist

  “The romance . . . crackles and the verbal sparring keeps the narrative moving along at an energetic clip . . . delightful.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Confessions

  “[A] hot, steamy . . . page-turner.”

  —A Little Romance

  “[T]ouches of humor nicely relieve the suspenseful nature of the intriguing and intricately plotted tale. Bravo!”

  —The Paperback Forum

  Also by JoAnn Ross

  Shelter Bay Novels

  The Homecoming

  High Risk Novels

  Freefall

  Crossfire

  Shattered

  Breakpoint

  SIGNET

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0R
L, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,

  Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,

  Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,

  New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632,

  New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,

  Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, July 2011

  Copyright © The Ross Family Trust, 2011

  All rights reserved

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

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

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-51662-1

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Again, to all the men and women of the U.S. military—and their families—for their service and sacrifice.

  To Natasha Stowe Gebhardt for her friendship.

  And, as always, to Jay, as we begin yet another new exciting adventure together.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  With heartfelt appreciation once again to the fabulous team at NAL, who makes writing such a joy—this time, especially designer Mimi Bark for my beautiful cover!

  With my enduring gratitude to the Empress of Lunches—my agent and friend, Robin Rue. And her super assistant (and debut author!), Beth Miller.

  Thanks to former Vanity Fair lingerie designer Jearlean Petrey Stowe for coming up with the perfect name for Shelter Bay’s lingerie boutique.

  And finally, a huge shout-out to the members of the Portland, Oregon/Vancouver, Washington, chapter of Project Linus, along with the thousands of volunteers nationwide, for the very special work they do to comfort children by providing security through blankets. To learn more about the organization and how you can help, go to www.projectlinusoregon.org, or nationally, www.projectlinus.org.

  1

  After having spent more than a decade in war zones and other hot spots around the globe, Gabriel St. James was an expert at zeroing in on a shot.

  Even when that target was in a bustling crowd of people, as this one was.

  Unlike most people on the planet, Gabriel hated weddings. Although there were those in the military who’d called his ability to nail the perfect shot preternatural, and he was more than capable of lowering his cone of silence to shut out the bedlam of merrymaking, weddings were just a screwup waiting to happen.

  There were too many people. Too many variables. Too many chances for someone to stumble between him and his target.

  But against his better judgment, he’d signed on to this mission solely because of loyalty. When you’d been in the trenches with a guy, when you had become even closer than blood brothers, you owed him.

  Simple as that.

  Semper Fi.

  The bride and groom were dancing. Twirling around the floor like a couple on top of a wedding cake come to life. He was looking down at her in a besotted, goofy way that suggested if he dropped dead at that moment, he’d die a happy man.

  She was smiling up at him as if she felt the same way.

  Damn. Gabe really hated to see another one bite the dust.

  Not that it was any of his business. This was a mission. Same as any other.

  Yeah, right.

  He narrowed his field of vision, cutting out the musicians, the guests, the wedding party. Then further.

  Gone was the bride’s fairylike, frothy white lace princess dress. And the groom’s snazzy military uniform with the shiny brass buttons and colorful field of service ribbons.

  He’d closed his focus down to two faces, which were about to be frozen in time.

  Gabe took a deep breath, the way Marine sniper scouts were taught to do before taking a shot. Steadied his heartbeat.

  Put his finger on the trigger.

  Because he was a professional, and because they were lost in their own lovey-dovey world, neither the bride nor the groom noticed him.

  Or his camera.

  “You know,” a woman’s voice behind him said, “you are allowed to enjoy yourself at a wedding.”

  “I happen to be working.”

  He tilted the Nikon to portrait and took a vertical shot. God. Was a dip the most clichéd photo ever?

  But the bride had been very specific about what the bride wanted, and apparently big tough Marine Cole Douchett wasn’t about to deny her anything her little heart desired. In fact, Gabe’s former battle buddy was so besotted, Gabe wouldn’t have been surprised if when he printed the photos, little pink hearts would show up dancing around their heads.

  “I’ve noticed. You’re very diligent.”

  When she paused, as if expecting him to comment, Gabe remained silent, hoping she’d go away. She didn’t. Nor did her scent, which reminded him of a summer meadow blooming with lavender and wildflowers.

  “You’re not like any other wedding photographer I’ve met,” she said conversationally.

  “Thank God for that.” Oh, hell. Not the garter shot. Why didn’t they just take him out and shoot him so he could get this day over with? “Met a lot of wedding photographers, have you?”

  He’d taken an oath to follow fellow Marines through the gates of hell, if necessary. Gabe had never envisioned that might someday include wedding duty.

  “Quite a few, actually.”

  Cole was now kneeling in front of the chair and had begun stripping the bit of pink and white lace from the bride’s thigh. The new Mrs. Cole Douchett did have dynamite legs—he’d give her that.

  “What are you? A wedding planner or something?” He hadn’t met one at last night’s rehearsal dinner, but then again, after taking the obligatory shots, he’d gone back to the campground, where he’d spent the night in his RV with a beer and a ball game.

  “No. I’ve just been in a lot of wedding parties the past few years. They seem contagious. Weddings, that is.”

  “I guess they’re like the flu.” Cole was taking the garter off with his teeth. Was that even allowed in mixed company with children present? Apparently so, since, by their hoots and cheers, the spectators all appeared to be enjoying the show immensely.

  “Always a bridesmaid?” he asked. The damn fragrant cloud, more aura than perfume, was surrounding them. Even as he fought against it, Gabe found himself being drawn to it.

  “Not always. I’ve done the white tulle thing.” She paused again. He thought he heard a sigh. “It didn’t work out.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “So was
I. For a time. But then I decided I was mostly upset because I really hate failing at anything.”

  “Join the club.”

  Since she apparently wasn’t going to go away, after he captured the garter toss for posterity, Gabe finally lowered his camera and glanced over at her.

  She was tall. Lean, but not in a skinny, Hollywood actress way. The pale yellow sleeveless dress that skimmed her body revealed well-toned arms and defined thighs that looked as if she’d spent a lot of time doing PT. Sleek dark hair was pulled back in a tidy tail that fell just below her shoulders, and if he’d been a portrait photographer, which he damn well wasn’t, or possessed a romantic bent, which he didn’t, her cool green eyes might remind him of a primeval rain forest. “If you’re not a wedding planner or a bridesmaid, what are you?”

  “A vet.”

  That got his attention. Momentarily forgetting the show going on, he narrowed his gaze and gave her a longer, more judicial perusal. “Which branch?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What branch of the military were you in?”

  “Oh!” Intelligent eyes lit up as comprehension dawned. “Sorry. My mistake. I’m not former military. I’m a veterinarian-type vet. Small animals. Dogs, cats, and birds, mostly. Along with the occasional reptile. Just anything that can be qualified as a family pet.”

 

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