Read, Write, Love at Seaside

by Addison Cole

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  SUNDAY MORNING KURT awoke to the sound of Leanna typing on her computer. By the darkness of her bedroom, he guessed it wasn’t yet six o’clock. Kurt rolled over and caught the scent of her shampoo on the pillow and let his cheek settle into it. He was going to miss her when he left for Colorado. He’d already spent most of Saturday missing her and she was only minutes away. But he’d pushed through the loneliness and was nearing the end of his manuscript—and it was a darn good story. Even better than his last. Jackie would be pleased.

  “Hey, babe?” he called into the kitchen.

  Leanna appeared in the doorway wearing his T-shirt, which covered up far too much of her gorgeous body. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes were more awake than anyone’s should be at that time of day.

  “Did I wake you?” She kneeled on the bed and kissed him.

  “Nope. I just missed you.” He folded her into his arms and pulled her down on top of him. “What are you working on?”

  “I had an idea for a few new flavors, and I wanted to add them to the product and ingredient lists. Once I sat down to do that, I started to look for other grocers to submit proposals to.” She ran her finger along his chin. “I guess I got stuck poking around on the Internet. I wanted to show you everything we’ve come up with, too. Maybe tonight?”

  “I thought I’d come by the flea market later. We can go over your stuff, and I’ll bring my computer and write while you’re working.”

  “Can you write there? Won’t the crowds be a distraction?”

  “I don’t care if they are. I want to be with you.” He rolled her over so she was beneath him. His cell phone rang. “What the…? Who would call this early?” He reached for the phone. “It’s Siena. I’m sorry. Just a sec.” He answered the call with a serious tone. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah. I just wanted to ask you if you thought Leanna would want to go out with the girls for dinner Saturday. We’ll probably just end up at one of the Bradens’ houses with no guys allowed, but the idea is that we women get one last hurrah with Savannah before she and Jack leave for their honeymoon.”

  He covered the mouthpiece. “Don’t move,” he whispered to Leanna; then he rolled to his side and answered Siena. “Aren’t you the one who complained about me calling at the crack of dawn?”

  “This is payback.” He heard the smile in Siena’s voice.

  “Pest. She can’t come to the wedding.”

  “What? Why? Oh no. Did you break up?”

  “No, Siena. She has a meeting. Listen, I’m a little busy. Can I call you later?”

  Leanna sat up, and Kurt pressed her gently back down to the mattress, smiled, and shook his head.

  “Are you sure? I was looking forward to meeting her.”

  “I know. I’ll call you…sometime. Love you, sis. Bye.” He ended the call, and Pepper stuck his nose up on the bed and barked.

  “She’s mine for a few minutes,” Kurt said to Pepper.

  Pepper whimpered.

  “Does he need to go out?” Kurt asked.

  “No. He was just out.” Leanna pointed to Pepper’s tail wagging happily. “I think he wants you, not me.”

  Kurt nuzzled against her neck. “Too bad. I’m going to miss you in a few days. There’s no way I’m giving up one second of our time.” He nibbled on her earlobe, and Pepper barked again.

  “I think he’s jealous,” Leanna teased.

  “Then let’s give him something to be jealous of.” Kurt lifted his T-shirt from her body and began kissing his way up her ribs.

  She squirmed beneath him, and Pepper barked again.

  Kurt pressed his cheek to Leanna’s stomach. “Really, Pep?” He turned his attention back to Leanna.

  Pepper breathed heavily through his nose and lay down on the floor.

  “I think you just figured out how to calm him down,” she whispered.

  He kissed her belly. “And how to rev you up.”

  “Shh. The window’s open.”

  “Your friends aren’t even awake yet.”

  “It’s seven o’clock. It seems later because it’s a little cloudy, and Tony got in late last night. He gets up wicked early, and since he’s next door, he can probably hear us if he’s out on his deck.”

  “The hot neighbor?” He kissed her neck.

  “Mm-hm. That one.”

  Kurt got up and closed the window. “No need to taunt him. Now, where were we?”

  “You were about to drive me wild.” She took off her shirt and tossed it toward him.

  “I think I can handle that. I don’t have many days left to love you in ways that will make you forget how hot Tony is.”

  “I think you’ve already accomplished that.”

  He crawled onto the bed on all fours and kissed her ankles, calves, and just above her knees. “I’m an overachiever.”

  MORE THAN AN hour later, Kurt was back home and heading out for his morning run. His day would be thrown off by his late start, and again by the interruption of meeting with Blue about the studio renovation. Kurt was such a creature of habit that he expected to be cantankerous because of the upending of his schedule, but an unfamiliar calm settled over him as he ran beneath the thinning clouds.

  His thoughts turned introspective, and he took stock of how his life had changed—how he’d changed. He used to work through plot issues and character development in the hours he wasn’t writing, and he never understood how writers claimed to turn their writer brains off in the evenings and on the weekends. To Kurt, every day held the promise of a blank page, and he craved the challenge of filling it with meaningful words that engaged the reader to the point of obsession. Now he was beginning to understand the desire to climb out of his characters’ minds and turn off the plot formations. As he rounded a bend, he thought of Leanna up early and working on her business. She’d changed, too, he realized. He’d never been a big believer in fate, and as he came to the end of his three-mile run, the sun broke through the clouds, shining brightly on the studio.

  Blue arrived right on time. He was a strappingly handsome man with a body built for hard work. He stood eye-to-eye with Kurt, with thick, dark brown hair parted on the side, and smallish eyes, which gave him a mysterious look. In his jeans and a white T-shirt, complete with a five-o’clock shadow at ten in the morning, the man probably turned heads everywhere he went.

  “Blue Ryder. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He flashed a killer smile, and Kurt was surprised when his handshake wasn’t a challenge, as he’d expect from a burly guy like Blue, but a gentleman’s handshake: two quick shakes accompanied by a nod.

  “Thanks for coming out.”

  “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks. The studio belonged to an artist, and I’d like to outfit it with the materials I noted in the photographs I sent. My girlfriend has a jam and jelly business.” They walked across the grass to the studio. Blue eyed the building with an assessing gaze.

  “You mentioned that, and this is a surprise, which means you need to be clever about either where she stays or the hours I work.”

  They went inside, and Blue ran a hand over the countertop. He sized up the ceiling and walls, checked out the storage area, and took notes on a notepad he pulled from his back pocket.

  “This place is incredible. There are so many possibilities with the setup. Are you open to a few ideas, or are you set on the images you’ve already provided?” Blue put one hand on his hip and rubbed his chin. “I think we can make this much more comfortable and elegant, unless your girlfriend really enjoys a sterile feel to the environment.”

  “She’s anything but sterile.” He smiled, thinking of Leanna’s kitchen, stacked high with dishes the first night he took her home. “I think she’d like something that felt like home but was easy to clean. Jams and jellies make for sticky cleanups, so if you can work with that, then sure. I’d love to hear your ideas.”

  “I know you want to keep this a surprise, but renovations like this
can be pricey. Are you sure you don’t want to run a few ideas by her first?”

  Kurt locked the studio, and they headed back to the cottage.

  “Do you have images online I can show her? I can work it into a conversation, and she won’t have to know about the renovation.” Kurt opened his laptop and slid it across the table to Blue.

  “Sure.” Blue pulled up his website.

  “Just save the images to my desktop. That way she won’t see your site.”

  “Smart. So, how long have you two been together?”

  “Oh, man, don’t even ask. You’ll think I’m nuts.” Kurt walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “Sure, thanks. Water’s fine.” He saved a number of images and then showed and explained each to Kurt. “And I’ll build these cabinets myself, so they’ll look as if they were part of the original build. I agree with your using stainless steel for the appliances and a few of the larger workstations, for ease of cleaning, but I think if we mix in some granite and wood along the east wall and in the supply area, then it will give the studio a warmer feel. Maybe warm shades of browns, golds, and beige?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “We need to talk budget, so give me a feel for what you’re thinking.” Blue turned back to the computer, and Kurt knew he was giving him space to think through the finances. He didn’t need to think about it. He had more money than he could spend in the next thirty years, and his father’s advice reiterated his thoughts. Invest in quality—your house, your children’s education, your career. Don’t skimp on things for the people who matter. He thought of his mother. She was an artist, and his father had built a studio for her the year Jack was born. He remembered hearing his mother going out to her studio after they’d gone to bed when he was just a boy, leaving their father on “kid duty.” Sometimes Kurt would look out his bedroom window and watch her through the studio window. He remembered seeing her dance while she painted. Even now he saw a light in his mother’s eyes when she went to work in her studio. He wanted Leanna to have that—a place to call her own that she would still adore twenty years from now. A place where she could create from her heart and that held significance for them.

  Kurt gazed out over the ocean, wondering again if he was moving too quickly. For a guy who kept his world close to his chest, he was opening up to Leanna in ways that couldn’t be easily closed. He tried to picture his life without Leanna and found he was unable. There was no room for doubt in his very full heart. Fast or not, the only thing in his life that he felt as passionate about as he did Leanna was writing, and even that now took a backseat. He was moving forward, and it felt right all the way to his core.

  This is where we met. What could be more meaningful than this property?

  “I have a hard time putting a price on love. Work it up, and let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  LEANNA PLACED SIX jars of jam into a bag and handed it across the table to the elderly gentleman in shorts and a polo shirt. He reminded her of Al Black, and a quiet longing passed through her.

  “Thank you, and I hope you enjoy them.”

  “How can I not enjoy something called Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats? It’s all in the name. Do you have a website where I can order throughout the year?” the gray-haired man asked.

  Oh no. Of course, a website! She made a mental note to figure out how to create a website. “It’s under development right now, but if you leave me your email address, I’ll send you the link once it’s live.” Note to self: Start an email list, a mailing list, and maybe a newsletter.

  That pushed her total sales for the day over ninety, and it was only noon. Things were definitely looking up. Carey hadn’t shown up today, leaving the space beside her empty. The flea market felt strange without his orange van parked behind hers and their friendly banter, but after the first twenty minutes, she’d been too busy to notice. The clouds had cleared and the sun shone brightly on the tented rows of vendor booths, drawing in droves of customers since the flea market opened at nine, and she was thankful for the sales. Several return customers stopped by to stock up on her Sweet Treats in anticipation of the end of summer, when real life took over and the flea market would be a distant memory.

  Leanna thought about real life. She had a plan for the first time in her life. Not a whim, not a hope, but a solid plan that included a life she wanted, a relationship with a man she adored, and a future full of promise. With Kurt she’d found love, and she’d become stronger, more focused. Happier. Which she found astounding, because she thought she’d always been happy, even if she’d been searching for something more in her life. She hadn’t realized that her happiness could triple with Kurt in her life.

  Pepper began barking before she spotted her love walking leisurely through the crowd with his computer and notebook tucked under one arm, a small bag and a vase full of flowers in the other. A warm thrill flowed through her. He was incredibly handsome in his khaki shorts and white polo shirt. His hair was perfectly combed to the side, and he hadn’t shaved. She loved when he didn’t shave. A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine as she thought about the scratchy feel of stubble on her cheek when they kissed. His eyes met hers, and when he smiled, it reached his eyes and brightened her heart.

  Pepper fought against his tethered leash. The jars knocked against each other. Kurt stepped up his pace as she came around the table and reached for Pepper’s leash.

  “Hey, babe.” He kissed her and took Pepper’s leash from her hand. “Next summer we’ll have to figure out a better plan for Pepper.”

  Her heart warmed at the way he’d come to care for Pepper.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you.”

  He draped his arm over her shoulder, and they sat behind the booth. “I missed you, too. Where’s Carey?” He set the vase on the table.

  She shrugged. “Not sure. Sometimes vendors don’t show up.”

  “I brought him a few of my books and signed them for him. He seemed like he was into them, so I thought if he didn’t want them, he could sell them on eBay or something. I’ll put them in your van.”

  Flowers for me and books for Carey? Could you be more thoughtful?

  “Next weekend is the last flea market for most vendors, so I’m not sure if he’ll be back or not.” She smelled the bouquet of brightly colored flowers and felt a little guilty for not telling him about Carey kissing her. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Uh-oh. Your voice has that worried sound to it.”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “That night after Carey and I went to the beach, we went to the Beachcomber restaurant, and I drank too much.”

  “This doesn’t sound like something I want to hear.” Kurt’s eyes filled with worry.

  She touched his hand. “It’s not bad, and I don’t even know why I didn’t mention it before, except that it didn’t mean anything.” She held his gaze. “Anyway, that night, he kissed me.” She felt his arm go rigid, and she decided to continue so he understood what really happened. “I didn’t kiss him back, I mean, how could I? I had thought about you all night. Anyway, I told him I didn’t like him in that way, and he was fine with it. He didn’t push for more or try anything else, and when I saw him the next weekend at the flea market, I told him about us.”

  He had that look of contemplation again.

  “I didn’t mean to hide it. I honestly just brushed it off and didn’t think anything of it.” The tension in his hand and arm relaxed.

  He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for telling me.”

  She looked up at him with a hopeful heart and a storm of worry in her stomach. “Are you mad?”

  “No, babe. I’m glad you were honest with me, and quite frankly, he did what any guy would do. How could anyone go to the beach with you and not want to kiss you?” His gaze softened, and the edges of his lips curled up again. “You just scared me for a minute. The worry in your eyes had my min
d running in some pretty dark directions.”

  “Oh, Kurt. That’s because of those dark and scary thrillers you write. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m not even the one who kissed. He kissed me.” She hugged him around his middle. “Thank you for not being mad.”

  “I would have been mad if he’d pressured you or if you had done something more and kept it from me. But really, even if you had slept with him, we weren’t really dating at the time, so while I might have been jealous, I wouldn’t have had the right to get mad.”

  “Are you always this rational? Because I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that if another woman kissed you, I’d be mad. Even if I didn’t have the right to.”

  He leaned in close and kissed her. “Then it’s a good thing that you’re the only woman who has access to these lips. Now, let’s change the subject before you convince me that I should be mad.”

  She had to smile, because that was a very practical, very Kurt thing to say. “I love these beautiful flowers. Thank you.”

  “I thought you might like them.” He crouched to pet Pepper. “Does he need to be walked, or do you want to go over your stuff first?”

  “Why don’t I walk him first? That way we won’t be interrupted.”

  A group of thirty-something women wearing colorful beach cover-ups and big floppy hats browsed the table.

  “Don’t these look delicious?” said a plump brunette.

  “There are tasting spoons in the basket.” Leanna pointed to a basket full of tiny plastic spoons. “And these are the tasters.” She pointed to six open jars. “Feel free to sample as many as you like, but please take a new spoon for each taste, and when you’re done, just drop the little spoons into the trash bin to your left.”

  “Hey, babe?” Kurt stood with Pepper’s leash in his hand. “Why don’t I take Pep for that walk? Do you want something from the snack bar?”

  What I want, they don’t serve at the snack bar. “I’ve got ice water in the cooler, but thanks.” She noticed the women stealing glances at Kurt, and after a second of jealousy, a sense of pride replaced the unfamiliar emotion.