Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  Relief washed over Isabelle’s face. “We’d appreciate that. I think we’re both feeling a little isolated.”

  I nodded. “Of course. Give me a few dates, and I’ll make it work, Iz.”

  “The world needs more people like you, Gabriel,” Maya said.

  “I’m all in on this Uncle stuff,” I said, grabbing the wine glasses.

  I was halfway to Gladys and Gloria—who were trying to convince Kevin the new wall art was a political statement on the role of the government in our lives—when the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the hazy air.

  I jogged back behind the bar, grabbing the phone.

  “What’s good?” I said and heard Calvin’s telltale nervous stutter.

  “Gabe? Um… would you want to come to a party with, um… well with some models?”

  I laughed. Calvin and I had developed a close friendship since he’d moved here five months earlier, but he still seemed nervous every time we talked.

  “Calvin, my man,” I boomed. “Are you inviting me to a party with the Hollywood People?” I said the last part loudly, and a strong contingent of locals looked my way.

  They, like everyone else in Big Sur, were particularly intrigued by the arrival of big-time, fancy Hollywood super models to our tiny hamlet. I didn’t entirely understand why they wanted to do a photo shoot for a fashion magazine at Calvin’s bookstore, The Mad Ones, but then again… I wasn’t the kind of person who understood fashion. Or Hollywood. Or, for that matter, how to use most cameras.

  But the supermodels had arrived in full force not forty-eight hours earlier, and the Big Sur Channel was abuzz like it hadn’t been in a while. On their first day of shooting, the bakery had saved the day, carting up coffee and breakfast items when their food service people had been stuck in traffic. And the bakery folks had come back with mountains of information (which I’d gleaned when I’d stopped in for coffee—only took me a full hour to hear the minute-by-minute breakdown). There was an entire crew—hair, makeup, wardrobe. Two models, the kind you see on magazine covers and on television. A woman and a man, both stunning, and several of the hornier elderly people had already been banned from spying on them through the windows.

  “I am indeed,” Cal said. “Or… um, I guess it’s not really a party? But a gathering on the patio. I’m not sure if you want to close up early or bring liquor or… whatever,” he finished and I could hear the sounds of people in the background. I glanced outside. A massive storm had been predicted, but so far, the night was still warm. And about half the people here at The Bar would come with me if I left.

  “When will I ever get a chance like this again?” I grabbed a large bucket and started to stock up on beer. “Count me in. I’ll grab a few of our more… discerning residents,” I said, grinning as the twins shot me a dirty look.

  “Okay, um… okay, good,” Cal stuttered and promptly hung up.

  I liked Calvin, a lot. His grandfather, Robert, had died six months ago—a Big Sur legend. An institution. His grandfather, along with my father and a few other members, were the foundation of Big Sur’s bohemian, counterculture history. The Mad Ones had been open since the late 1950s and until recently had been the home of late-night poetry readings, famous authors-in-residence, and parties that lasted until dawn. In the sixties and seventies, Beat poets would travel up from the North Bay, bringing pot and jazz and their air of artistic defiance. After a reading, they’d grab a burger at Fenix or a glass of whiskey at The Bar, and slowly Big Sur’s wild, artistic reputation took hold.

  And now our little bohemian hamlet was being invaded by Hollywood People, and as usual, it was alcohol to the rescue.

  “Listen up, everyone,” I called out, and immediately the room silenced. “We’ve all been invited to The Mad Ones for an impromptu party with some Los Angeles models. If you’re in, come with me. If you’re not, try not to trash the place and leave money on the table.” I tossed a wink at Isabelle. “I’ll know if you stiff me.”

  She rolled her eyes then dutifully slapped a twenty on the table. Which I would only return later—I never took money from family. But both my siblings and my parents always paid their bill when they came by for a visit. And I’d always take the cash and slip it back into their coat pockets or under their coffee pots.

  “Do you want to come see some hot models?” I asked Isabelle, who only wrinkled her nose.

  Maya agreed. “We just want to drink quietly then immediately go to sleep.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like a magical Date Night.”

  I kept grabbing liquor, and Ruth and Kevin stood up to join. I glanced at the ranchers. “Takers?” But they only turned their eyes back to the television. Gladys and Gloria sidled over, but I shook my head.

  “No,” I said firmly. “You’ll scare them away.”

  “Then we’ll just get our binoculars and spy on you from the bushes,” Gloria sniffed.

  “I’ll allow it,” I said. “But no pictures.” Which was a crock of bullshit—they’d document the entire event, put up a fucking slide show in the post office for the customers.

  I kissed Maya and Isabelle on the cheek. “See you soon?” I asked, and Isabelle gave me a shove.

  “Go, go,” she said. “Maybe you’ll meet a famous model and fall in love.”

  “Sure,” I said dryly. “Those are the kinds of things that always happen to me.”

  It was time to meet the Hollywood People.

  Chapter 5

  Gabe

  Turns out the Hollywood People were just regular people—not that I’d spoken to any of them yet. Calvin and I were leaning against the railing on the patio just outside the bookstore. Big Sur’s usually starry sky was blanketed with thick, heavy clouds.

  I handed him a beer. “So what’s it like having the bookstore overrun with supermodels?”

  Cal snuck a glance toward Lucia Bell, who was talking to a dark-haired woman at the other end of the patio. Lucia was a famous supermodel, as opposite from Calvin as you could be, yet it was obvious to me they already shared some kind of strange connection.

  “Oh… you know,” Cal shrugged. “Definitely not something I ever thought I’d experience, this kind of… fame… To be honest, it’s definitely not the kind of thing I ever thought my grandfather would participate in. He was so against all of that. Being obsessed with image, American culture.” A wry smile. “Capitalism in general.”

  “Which I always found ironic since he owned his own business,” I said. Robert had been like a second grandfather to me growing up. His death six months ago had rocked the community.

  “Exactly,” Cal smiled, shaking his head. “And I can’t tell… well, I can’t tell if he, um, was that desperate for money? To help the debt? I have absolutely no idea.”

  Cal and I had been friends for months now, drinking together a few times a week, and he’d been open about his concerns with the legacy that had been laid at his feet: whether or not to sell his grandfather’s store. After Robert had died, ownership of The Mad Ones had passed to Calvin.

  Ownership… and a mountain of debt. But The Mad Ones was a Big Sur institution, as important to our town as The Bar. He was currently in talks to sell it to investors that planned on building a spa there. The Mad Ones had once been a place where countless authors and poets had read their historic works. The thought of it being sold was painful for me, and I could feel Cal hesitating.

  But I hadn’t wanted to push him, even though I had the full weight of the Big Sur Channel behind me, begging me to make him change his mind.

  I knew Cal needed to make this decision himself.

  “Or maybe Robert knew that having the Hollywood People would be some necessary excitement for the locals,” I replied, grinning at the scene around me. Ruth was fawning all over a male model named Taylor. Kevin was animatedly talking to a man named Ray, who’d introduced himself as the ‘creative director.’

  “We’re going to be entertaining bar patrons with stories from this night for weeks. It’s like this�
�� extra gift from your grandfather, even though he’s gone.”

  “Sure,” Cal laughed. “He was concerned that Gladys and Gloria didn’t have enough people to spy on.”

  I snorted but cast a wary glance into the trees, eyes narrowing. It was likely they were eavesdropping on this conversation.

  “You can tell these people aren’t from here because they’re glued to their phones,” I pointed out.

  Cal shook his head. “I did the same thing when I first moved to Big Sur, trying to get a signal. I’ve been with them for two days now, and every free moment, they all whip them out as if the situation has suddenly changed.”

  Knocking my beer against Calvin’s, I hoisted myself up onto the railing. “I want to tell them to slow down. You’re in Big Sur now. What could be more important?”

  I turned to Calvin, but he was not-so-subtly staring at Lucia. I hid a smile, scanning the crowd. Watched the Hollywood People check their phones as the Big Sur locals lit joints and prattled on about their experimental art. The Grateful Dead crooned from the stereo, the fire pits were lit, and the air was heavy with that just-about-to-rain feeling.

  I inhaled.

  Big Sur curled against my heart.

  I exhaled and caught the eye of the dark-haired woman talking to Lucia.

  It lasted barely a moment, and then she looked away. I did too, not wanting to stare, but I’d gotten a brief-but-compelling impression of her: dark eyes, tattoos flowing over her light brown skin, ripped dress.

  I chanced a second glance, and luckily the woman was talking animatedly to Lucia, laughing at something she said. There was something… distinct about her: the proud tilt of her head. And she wasn’t checking her damn phone every second.

  “How was your… um, date, the other night?” Cal asked, and I turned to him with a disapproving look.

  “Even you, Cal?” I said

  Cal shrugged. “I went to the post office, and the place was abuzz with the news that Gabriel Shaw, Town Lothario, had engaged in a romantic encounter.”

  I picked at the label on my beer bottle. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in almost ten years. I’m not sure a random hook-up qualifies me as Town Lothario.”

  “In the eyes of the Big Sur Channel, it does,” Cal said. “And… you didn’t answer my question.”

  “It was okay,” I finally said, waving as two patrons from The Bar walked onto the patio. “It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t anything special, like the whole night existed in some kind of vacuum. No connection. No feelings. But also no consequences. Just sex.”

  “Sex is good.”

  I caught the eye of the dark-haired woman again. This time she gave me a sly grin before looking away.

  “Sex is good,” I replied slowly. Her wavy hair was tipped in lavender. Every time she moved, the purple strands brushed across her bare shoulders. I turned back to Calvin. “Sex is great. But that kind of sex…” I trailed off, uncertain of how to continue.

  My sexual fantasies—and sexual reality—had never met. At night, my mind filled with a sea of images I couldn’t make sense of, of sharp commands, the sting of pain, the way the floor would bite into my knees. And yet the fantasy also pulsed with emotion—strong and urgent like high tide sweeping away the sand. The emotion didn’t exist without consequences.

  And it wasn’t what I’d felt the other night.

  No. The commanding tone, the ringing slap of palm against flesh: these desires were woven through with a fiery, bright intensity.

  “Gabe?” Cal asked, and when I turned, his eyebrows were knit together with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Just… you ever wake up and realize time is moving more quickly than you’d like it to?”

  He nodded in understanding. “Yes, I have.” He squeezed my shoulder. “And there aren’t a lot of opportunities to meet your soul mate up here in Big Sur, huh?”

  I cleared my throat and swigged my beer. “No,” I admitted. “No, there aren’t.”

  Chapter 6

  Josie

  It was his man bun that did it.

  That and the fact that he looked like an honest-to-god Viking. He was white with dark blond hair, a full beard and a barrel chest covered in a plaid shirt.

  He was easily a head taller than the tallest person in the room.

  A ferocious Viking, newly arrived from another world, sent to seduce milk-maids and princesses, leaving them sighing and heartbroken.

  We’d just wrapped the second day of shooting, and Lucia had convinced Calvin to throw a party on the patio outside The Mad Ones. We only had one full day left in this bohemian paradise, and I was soaking it all in. The weird hippies intermingling with the crew, the majestic redwoods surrounding us, the electricity sparking through the air.

  “You look happy,” Lucia said, nudging my shoulder. “And stop being so obvious.”

  I laughed, sipped my beer. “I am happy,” I admitted, acknowledging the light, joyful feeling in my chest. No Clarke tonight. No bad memories. And I’d just spent two days on an artistic photo shoot with my best friend, creating experimental makeup looks inspired by the gorgeous scenery that surrounded us.

  “Blissed out, even,” I continued. I turned to her, wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “This has been a really good best-friend trip, don’t you think?”

  Lu smiled easily and kissed my cheek. “The best.”

  There was a burst of masculine laughter, and our heads whipped toward the sound. Calvin and his friend, Viking Man Bun, were laughing broadly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, exposing his thick, veined forearms.

  “Oh wait,” Lucia said, bending down dramatically. She stood up. “Here’s your jaw. Picked it up off the floor.”

  “First, shut the fuck up,” I teased. “Secondly, you should talk. You’ve been eye-fucking sweet Calvin all night long.”

  “Eye-flirting,” she corrected. “Calvin’s too polite for eye-fucking.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her.

  She blushed a little. That was new. Lucia Bell, Maxim Magazine’s “Sexiest Woman Alive,” did not blush.

  “And you’ve got maneater written all over you tonight. You’re on the prowl,” she said.

  I shrugged. It was true. “I haven’t had sex with anyone in months, and I’m horny as fuck,” I said as Lu snorted into her drink. A few of the male techs gave me the side eye, but I ignored them. “I’m assessing my options.”

  “You literally slept with someone the day before we left for Big Sur,” Lucia pointed out.

  “Right,” I admitted. “But what I really mean is… I haven’t had good sex in months.”

  And I wanted more than just good sex. “Good” was a word too paltry to describe what I thought fucking should be.

  An art form. A religious experience. Bite marks and clothing torn in half and broken headboards.

  Since Clarke, I’d been on a tear across Los Angeles, desperate to drown my sorrows in life-altering sex.

  But one-night stands so rarely provided that. My stranger-lovers were just that… strangers. They hadn’t spent months learning the sensitive areas of my body. What gave me goosebumps. What made me scream.

  Viking Man Bun met my gaze for a second before pulling Calvin into a side hug, laughing uproariously. He should have had an ax slung around his back, a shield across his broad frame.

  “Well, assess away, chica. Calvin told me he’s single,” Lucia said.

  My heart sped up at the news, the rush of excitement as heady as any drug. Just call me the Black Widow. Viking Man Bun was my next victim.

  “Interesting,” I said. “He looks like a challenge.”

  “Oh, please,” Lucia drawled. “He’ll take one look at you and fold in a second.”

  I grinned in response. There was nothing more affirming than working every day with your best friend.

  “You’re too kind, mija,” I said, wiggling a little and making her laugh.

  “Plus, he looks nice.”

  I
shook my head, taking a real drag on my beer. “I don’t care much about nice.”

  Nice didn’t get you far in my book anymore.

  “What do you care about?” she asked.

  “Big dick,” I said, holding out my palms to indicate size and laughing. Lucia threw her head back in a laugh. Those same techs just about drew a scarlet ‘A’ on my chest.

  “What?” I said to them, hands on my hips. “You guys talk about tits all damn day long, and as soon as I mention dicks, I’m the pervert?”

  They moved along, properly chastised, leaving Lucia and I alone by the table of drinks. Viking Man Bun was getting low on his beer, which meant he’d probably come over here. Soon.

  “You staking out this territory?” Lucia asked.

  “Si. How do I look?” I asked, striking a pose.

  “Fucking divine. This dress is killer. As in could literally give a man a heart attack and kill him,” she said, tugging it down a bit.

  I swatted her hand away playfully. “Hands off the threads, Mom. Also, you know Calvin has been staring at you longingly this entire time, right?”

  I was mostly joking, but she perked up a little, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  “You should go talk to him,” I said. “He actually does seem nice. Nerdy, but nice.”

  “Not nice. Kind. He seems kind,” she said, automatically.

  “Well, get over there, mija. At this rate, he’ll blush himself to death every time he accidentally locks eyes with you across the room.”

  “How do I look?” she asked genuinely, which was an odd thing about supermodels. Even they worried about looking good.

  “You’re giving every man in this room a massive boner,” I said, “Now go.” I gave her a little push, and she made a goofy face, sticking her tongue out. But she went, dutifully, and I watched her light up for Cal like I’d never seen her do for anyone else before.

  The alcohol was finally making me feel a little loose. A little wanton. I mean, I always felt wanton, but there was something… something about this place. It was so beautiful, so free from the distractions of modern life. I’d felt my heart physically respond to it the moment we’d arrived.