Love Lost, Love Found

by Judy Kentrus

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Love Lost

  Love Found

  by

  Judy Kentrus

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle Worlds, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of Love Lost, Love Found. This book is entirely the work of author Judy Kentrus, a talented writer I think my readers will love.

  I know they’ll love another “seasoned romance” – a love story with more mature and “silver” characters. Here’s a chance to step into the shoes (or bare feet!) of two former lovers separated by more than two decades and a lifetime of different choices. But when fate brings these two together on Barefoot Bay, years fade away like sandcastles in the waves and all that’s left is love. Enjoy!

  Roxanne St. Claire

  PS. If you’d like to read all of the Barefoot Bay Kindle Worlds novels, or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, stop by www.roxannestclaire.com for details!

  Love never dies. Sometimes it just needs a rest.

  It can come back complicated and messy, but it’s the lesson one learns and the healing that makes your love stronger. You can’t rely on or change the past, but you’ll regret it if you don’t explore the reason you two were brought back together.

  George Boehm

  Thank you for joining me in Roxanne St. Claire’s Barefoot Bay Kindle World.

  To find out more about my books and current release

  visit my website and sign up for my newsletter.

  I love to hear from my readers.

  Judykentrus.com

  Cover Art: The Killian Group, Inc.

  Edited by: Joyce Lamb Editing.

  Chapter 1

  “Mother! I’m so angry with you right now! Where are you?”

  “In Naples, in an air-conditioned rental car agency, sipping an iced caramel latte.”

  Nancy Jean Griffin pressed her cell phone closer to her ear and expelled a contented sigh. “I’m looking out the front window at the palm branches that are swaying in the afternoon breeze. The sky is a clear blue, and it’s eighty-five degrees. I’m wearing capris, a tank top and my wedge sandals. As soon as I get my car, I’m going to take a leisurely drive through the Naples shopping district then over the causeway to Mimosa Key.”

  “Thanks, for the eat-your-heart-out weather report. You got out of here just in time. It’s currently snowing, and we’re freezing our asses off in fifteen-degree weather. Some of our cranky senior citizens are calling headquarters wanting to know when their streets are going to be plowed. Half of them don’t drive and have nothing better to do than harass the police. We’ve only gotten two inches and the plows are standing by.”

  “You’re the one who decided to be a cop.”

  “I didn’t call you to discuss my choice of careers, and I love being a police officer.”

  “Why are you angry with me, Kaitlyn? All of my travel information is in the email I sent you.”

  “You dropped this bomb on me yesterday, and I never got a chance to talk to you because I’ve been putting in extra hours because of the damn flu. You schedule every minute of the day and never just drop everything and go on a two-week vacation.”

  “My admin and two partners can oversee the law firm while I’m away.”

  “Yes, because you’ve whipped them into shape, but this doesn’t sound like something you would do.”

  “See, that’s how predictable I am.”

  “That’s not the only thing I’m worried about. You’re chairman of the Planning Commission for Beacon Pointe, and some big-ass conglomerate wants to build a hotel and convention center that will destroy our beach. According to the scuttlebutt, your fellow committee members and our illustrious mayor are in favor of this eyesore.”

  “Put your mind at ease. They are just blowing smoke, trying to gain favor with the public. I am on the town council, and no one can put anything up for a vote without me first signing off on the proposal. The final hearing will be in three weeks, and I’ll be back by then. This is a big move for our community, so I proposed a unanimous vote from the elected officials. Keep this to yourself, but I contacted our friend Lincoln Adams. His security company is doing a deep search on this conglomerate.”

  “That’s one problem solved, but I’m far from done. I just stopped home to change my clothes. I’m working a double. When I passed your office on my way upstairs, I noticed you left your computer on, so I went to your desk to shut it down and noticed a priority message. It’s for a strange email account.”

  “What’s the name?” Nancy already knew. It was the account she used for one person only. Suddenly, her latte didn’t feel too good in her stomach. He would have sent a priority message only if there was a problem.

  “It’s addressed to the Lovely Purple Iris. Who is that?”

  She’d always been open and honest with her twenty-one-year-old daughter, but this was a secret she’d kept for a year, a personal side she hadn’t shared with anyone. It was nice having a secret friend, one who brought her a great deal of happiness. Sometimes she felt like a teenager hiding in the closet, not wanting her parents to overhear a conversation while talking on the phone. It was time to fess up.

  “Mother, I’m waiting.”

  “That’s me. Now don’t go ballistic, but last year I joined an online dating group. I met this man, and we have been corresponding back and forth. He’s very nice.”

  “Mother, are you out of your mind?” Nancy pulled the phone away from her ear as her daughter’s voice shot back in anger. “You’re a lawyer and are very familiar with the perverts in the world! Have you ever met him?”

  Kaitlyn paused for a few seconds then followed up with, “Oh my God! You’re meeting him at this resort! You have definitely lost it.”

  “I’m perfectly sane. We’ve been trying to arrange a time and place to meet on neutral territory. He’s sixty, a widower and a lawyer. He doesn’t know my real name, and I don’t know his. We’ve never posted pictures of each other, so I don’t know what he looks like.”

  “You could be meeting a Jack the Ripper wannabe! Tell me you have separate accommodations.”

  “Yes.” Nancy prefaced her next statement with a heavy sigh. “Kaitlyn, I’m forty-nine and have been a widow for ten years. I loved your father, and no, I’m not looking for a husband. I’ve dated, and there is nothing wrong with male companionship.”

  “I’ve no problem with you enjoying the company of a man, but meeting a perfect stranger is ludicrous! He’s eleven years your senior. You take care of yourself and look ten years younger. Find a young, sexy, volleyball-playing hunk on the beach.”

  “Jeez! I’m not a cradle-robber. Your father was fourteen years older than me, and I have no intentions of jumping into this guy’s bed.” Nancy stood up when the clerk called her name. “I’ve got to go. My car is ready. Don’t worry. I assure you I’m not meeting an ax murderer.”

  “Text me every day!”

  “Yes, Mother, I will. Now don’t worry.”

  A half hour later, Nancy sat in the front seat
of her rental car. Before leaving the parking lot, she pulled out her phone and signed into her private email address, already dreading the message from Blue Steel. Her disappointment increased as she read each word.

  Iris, please don’t hate me, but I won’t be able to meet you. I was in a car accident on my way home from work. I have two broken ribs and suffered a compound fracture of my left leg. I’m currently in the hospital and will be having surgery, so you won’t be able to reach me for a few days. Please don’t worry. You can still send me messages and I’ll reply as soon as I can. I was so looking forward to finally spending time together. Your villa is booked, so stay and enjoy yourself. We will meet, I promise you. Blue Steel.

  Her despair changed to deep concern, and she replied with a quick message, stressing her disappointment but wishing him a speedy recovery. She put her phone away and relaxed against the seat. Was this an omen that she’d acted foolishly? She’d never done anything so outrageous or unsafe—arranged to meet a total stranger a thousand miles away from the familiarity of her home turf.

  On the outside, everyone saw her as a very successful lawyer and a professional woman. No one saw her loneliness. Technically, she was never really alone. She had a wonderful daughter who lived with her, business associates and many close friends. They’d all been there to comfort and support her when Nelson died instantly from a brain aneurysm. At the time, she’d had to be strong and soothe her eleven-year-old daughter’s heartbreak. Inside, she suffered the pain of losing her husband and business partner and hoped she had the strength to carry on as a single parent.

  Her friends couldn’t fulfill what she sometimes needed, someone to look at her like an attractive woman, a woman who missed the gentle touch of a man. She’d been lucky to have enjoyed the love of two men. The first had been full of ambition and fire, but wanted financial success more than settling down with her. The second gave her a beautiful daughter, security and a gentle, comfortable love.

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Nancy Jean. For the next two weeks, you are going to enjoy fun in the sun, come hell or high water.” She sent a quick message to her daughter, stressing that her plans had changed and she would be at the resort alone.

  Nancy punched the address of the Casa Blanca Resort & Spa into the car’s navigation system and pulled out into the traffic on Route 41, or Tamiami Trail, toward Naples. The variety of out-of-state license plates was a sure sign that many people escaped to the area during the winter months.

  She followed the four-lane highway to the causeway leading to the barrier island. It felt strange being surrounded by an abundance of palm trees and beautiful flowers when everyone at home was freezing and dealing with a snowstorm.

  She crossed over the causeway and encountered a traffic light at Center Street and Harbor Drive and noticed a Shell Gas Station with a mini-mart. As a professional woman, she rarely found the time to cook, but she enjoyed puttering in the kitchen on weekends. She knew the villa she’d be staying in had a small kitchenette, so she would be paying a visit to the store to pick up a few staples.

  She drove farther and turned at the entrance to the Casa Blanca Resort and followed the signs to the parking area. The warmth of the sun felt good on her bare arms when she stepped out of the car. The flower-scented air was pleasant and not overpowering. She followed a paved walk to the main building and felt like she’d stepped into another world. The picture on the website didn’t do the resort justice. The white-stucco, Moroccan-style building and red tile roof was breathtaking. The landscaping was rich with huge red flowers, raspberry ice bougainvillea and areca palms. Set apart from the main building were private villas, some directly on the beach. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d seen Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman strolling the tree-lined paths that wound through the property.

  She was further stunned when she stepped into the cool, high-ceilinged lobby. Marble floors and miniature palm trees blended with soft gold-and rust-colored chairs. A huge Moroccan tapestry dominated one wall, and the woven wood blades from ceiling fans circulated the cool air.

  The registration desk was along one wall, and low-slung archways led to what were probably management offices. Nancy felt comfortable when the pretty woman with strawberry-blond hair, casually dressed in a white blouse and tan shorts, gave her a friendly smile.

  “Good afternoon and welcome to the Casa Blanca Resort. I can tell by the ‘in awe’ look on your face this is your first time here. It is a bit overwhelming. I’m Lacey Walker, the owner. My office is in the back, but I like to escape when I can and meet with our guests.”

  “I love the theme and I’m undecided whether or not to show you my passport. I’m Nancy Jean Griffin, and I’m delighted to be here.”

  “Thank you. We love it, too. My husband designed the resort. Now, let’s get you settled.” Lacey moved to the computer on the registration desk and called up the reservation.

  “I was supposed to meet a friend, but to my disappointment, he was in a car accident last evening and is in the hospital with a broken leg.” For the first time since leaving home, Nancy felt stupid because she didn’t know her friend’s real name.

  “We received an email from Blue Steel notifying us of the cancellation.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious about his actual name?”

  “Ms. Griffin, as a hotel owner, I’ve seen and heard it all, so no, I’m not surprised.” Lacey punched a few more keys. “You’re staying in Winter Iris. It faces the beach, so you will have a perfect view of our beautiful sunsets. It doesn’t have its own pool, but we have a large pool that you can enjoy. There are intimate tent cabanas and lounge chairs right on the beach if you enjoy swimming in the gulf.”

  “Just out of curiosity, who chose the villa I’m staying in? Or was it random?”

  “According to the reservation request, Blue Steel chose it. Fortunately, we had it available. Why?”

  “I met him through an online dating group, and we’ve been corresponding for about a year. The name I use is Lovely Purple Iris.”

  “That was very sweet of him. The villa has a small kitchen, and he requested we fill the refrigerator with your favorite juice, water and yogurt. You will also find your favorite herbal tea and a basket of fruit.”

  “Wow, he really does read my emails.” Nancy passed Lacey her credit card. “I’d like to pay now rather than at the end of my visit.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary. It seems Blue Steel paid for your villa. Any and all extra charges are to be put on his card. He also included a reservation at our Eucalyptus spa.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I can pay for my own vacation.”

  “You can take that up with him.”

  Lacey passed Nancy a trifold brochure and a key card. “Mimosa Key is twelve miles long and ends at Pleasure Pointe at the very southern tip. While you’re here, take advantage of Junonia, our five-star restaurant. If you’re really adventurous, try a hot air balloon ride.”

  “I like to run every morning.”

  “Pleasure Pointe Beach, south of town, is about a ten-minute drive from Barefoot Bay. It’s a bit rockier and has running trails. We’ve provided a map of the area. Now, do you have any luggage?”

  “One suitcase and it has wheels. I plan to do some shopping in Naples.”

  “If we can do anything for you, don’t hesitate to call the front desk or ask housekeeping. There is security twenty-four seven. I’m sorry Blue Steel couldn’t be here. Our island motto is

  ‘Kick off your shoes and fall in love.’”

  “I can handle the first part,” Nancy said with a small smile. “Falling in love isn’t on my radar.”

  “Take my word for it, I wasn’t prepared to fall in love with my husband, but I fell hard and fast and consider myself the luckiest woman in the world. I’m sure you’ll meet Clayton. Just watch for a gorgeous guy with a hint of a Southern drawl, a flame-circled star tattoo on his bicep and a tiny gold hoop earring. He’ll probably be accompanied by Elijah, our l
ittle boy.”

  Each villa had its own name posted on a small sign in the front of a short walkway, and Nancy had no problem locating Winter Iris. She was overwhelmed by the interior décor of the three-room villa with its dark-wood mahogany floors and woven area rugs that blended with the light salmon interior walls. The curved windows and archways blended with the rust and beige colors in the living room and bedroom decor. Following through with the Moroccan theme, the bed was draped in faux mosquito netting.

  The basket of fresh fruit was sitting in the center of the round kitchen table beside a beautiful bouquet of flowers that included various shades of bird-of-paradise and purple and yellow irises. Her hand shook lightly when she picked up the accompanying card.

  To my Lovely Purple Iris. In my heart, know that I am with you. Blue Steel.

  She finished unpacking and grabbed a bottle of water and a container of yogurt from the refrigerator. It was too beautiful to stay inside, so she opened one of the sliding doors off her living room. The beauty of the vast Gulf of Mexico with its never-ending, curling waves and white foamy lace that brushed the pristine sand beckoned her to step onto the small patio and make herself comfortable in the padded lounge chair. Reeds of sea oats waved to the gulls that circled overhead. In the distance, puffs of white clouds drifted slowly across the backdrop of a deep-blue sky.

  “It’s truly a paradise, for one.”

  The thought was very depressing.

  Two afternoons later, Nancy enjoyed her favorite spot, the private beach off her villa. It wasn’t so bad being alone. She’d repeated the statement numerous times. What more could she want? The warmth of the winter Florida sun, the whispering of sea grass ruffling in the gentle breeze, the smell of the coconut-scented sunscreen on her skin, the refreshing shock when the cool ocean water bathed her heated flesh.

  She’d driven to Pleasure Pointe Beach and taken pleasure in running the trails that bordered the beach just after the sun had risen. At home, she got up at five thirty and ran the trails in the public park or at the beach in the summer months.

  Yesterday afternoon, she’d paid a visit to the Shell mini-mart and met Charity and Patience, the owners. Ten minutes into her shopping, Nancy determined that if anyone wanted to know what was going on in Mimosa Key, this was the place to be. The women were very nice and asked the usual: Where are you from? Are you staying at the Casa Blanca Resort? How long will you be visiting our island paradise? Having lived in a small town all her life, Nancy was prepared to be friendly, but as a lawyer, she knew to never offer information freely.