Mine for a Day (Finding Love Book 8)

by Delaney Cameron

  Mine for a Day:

  A Sweet Contemporary Romance

  (Finding Love, Book 8)

  by

  Delaney Cameron

  ©2017 Delaney Cameron

  Photo courtesy of: StockLite

  Used under license from Shutterstock.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this e-book can be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without the written permission of the author.

  This book is fiction and its characters are purely a manifestation of the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, and events is entirely coincidental. (9)

  Other books by Delaney Cameron:

  Finding Love Series:

  Team Mom (Finding Love, Book 1)

  Stealing His Heart (Finding Love, Book 2)

  Love of a Lifetime (Finding Love, Book 3)

  Dare to Love (Finding Love, Book 4)

  Yours, With Love (Finding Love, Book 5)

  Love at Last (Finding Love, Book 6)

  One Woman's Heart (Finding Love, Book 7)

  Standalones:

  Dream of Me

  Finding Allie: A Sweet Regency Romance Novella

  To contact me or to sign up for my newsletter, please go to:

  www.delaneycameron.com

  For updates, you can visit me on Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/Delaney-Cameron-Author-535252503479579/

  Chapter One

  One minute Violet was listening to her newest audiobook; the next she was staring in horror at the busted grille and sagging bumper of a pearly-white Land Rover.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to the serious-looking man walking toward her. “I can’t think how it happened.”

  “Can’t you?” his deep voice drawled. “Maybe I can help you figure it out. Were you texting your boyfriend?”

  She couldn’t help smiling at his question. The fact that she didn’t have a boyfriend had been a popular topic over the Memorial Day weekend. If she hadn’t been aware of the direness of this situation before, she had no doubts about it now. “No, I wasn’t. Would you like to check my phone?”

  He ignored her attempt at humor, choosing instead to inspect the damage to their respective vehicles. The situation reminded her of a show she’d seen recently where a dating expert illustrated different ways to meet men. Running into their car had been one of the more humorous examples. Violet couldn’t have executed this plan any better if she tried, nor could she complain about the result.

  The man crouching next to her ten-year-old Fiat was tall enough to make even her feel short. That didn’t happen often when you were five-eleven. His striped polo shirt and jeans fit his wide shoulders and narrow hips like a glove. Costa sunglasses rested in his light brown hair, and his eyes were the color of polished steel. In the words of her Aunt Anita, he was the cat’s meow.

  He rose to his feet, dusting off his hands. “This isn’t your first rodeo, is it?”

  “Actually, it is. With the exception of today, the rest of those scratches and dents were there when I inherited Leonie.”

  For the first time since he stepped out of his vehicle something close to humor entered his handsome face. “In other words, you probably won’t bother to have it, I mean Leonie, repaired.”

  Her lips twitched at the correction. “That’s right. Shouldn’t we be calling the police?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve got a friend who owns a body shop.”

  She reached into her purse. “Let me give you my insurance information.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning to walk away.

  “But it’s my fault. I should have been paying attention.”

  He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, an attractive grin forming on his lips. “I agree, but there’s no point in raising your insurance rates over what amounts to a fender bender. Just watch where you’re going from now on. The owner of the next car you back into might not be so distracted by that pretty smile of yours.”

  Distracted by her pretty smile? Where had that come from? He’d gone from ice cold to oozing charm in ten seconds. Some people just couldn’t make up their minds.

  After giving him a decent head start, Violet left the rest area. Her clean accident record was still intact, but only because of Mr. Wonderful’s kindness. If she hadn’t been so tired from three days of nonstop activity, she might not have done such a stupid thing.

  From the moment she arrived at Millicent’s house in Chattanooga on Friday afternoon, she’d been swept up in all the activities of a reunion weekend with a few of her college friends. This included several late-night sessions where everyone provided details about the current man in their life. Violet’s contribution had been sadly lacking.

  A quick glance at her phone confirmed that she wouldn’t roll into Columbus until almost ten. She would have been further along if she hadn’t stopped in Dalton. The sight of a Carter’s outlet store had been too much of a temptation to pass up. She’d spent a happy hour browsing the racks and shelves buying baby clothes for her nephew Micah and her friend Holly’s daughter Rebecca.

  Hopefully Rachel remembered to feed Bluebell. Her best friend and roommate had become increasingly absentminded since she met Pierre, an exchange student from France. Not that Violet could blame her. If she had a guy whispering sweet nothings in French into her ear, she’d walk around with her head in the clouds, too.

  A sigh escaped her lips. Her own Prince Charming didn’t seem to be in any hurry to make an appearance. Her dating life had gone from a dribble to a dry creek bed. She hadn’t given up on finding love, but she was starting to wonder if love had given up on her.

  * * * * *

  Jackson’s grandfather had a proverb for nearly every life situation. One of his favorite sayings was trouble always comes in threes. Jackson had never really believed it until now. So far, he’d lost his wallet, ruptured his appendix, and sustained extensive damage to a vehicle that wasn’t yet a month old. None of those activities had been on his travel itinerary when he left Columbus eight days ago.

  Over the voice of the ESPN announcer giving the results of the day’s baseball games, he heard the ringing of his phone.

  “Hey, Willow.”

  “Don’t you ‘hey, Willow’ me. I’m standing in an empty condo. Where are you?”

  “Somewhere between Atlanta and Columbus. If you want the exact location, you’ll have to wait until I pass a road sign.”

  “You just got out of the hospital three days ago. In case you’ve forgotten, I was there when the surgeon who did your appendectomy said you were supposed to take it easy for a while.”

  “I can recover much faster at home. Haven’t you heard about the benefits of ocean air?”

  “My geography is bad, but it’s not that bad. You’re nowhere near the ocean.”

  “I’m only three and a half hours from Panama City. Remember those trips we used to take there when we were kids?”

  “My memories of the beach aren’t all rainbows and sunshine. Carl broke his two front teeth diving into the shallow end of the pool, and I got stung by a swarm of wasps when you poked a stick into their nest.”

  “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “I haven’t. I swelled up like a balloon. You’re coming back for the anniversary party, aren’t you?”

  “I have to. Carl told me they’re renewing their vows. There’s something I don’t understand. If you’re already married, what’s the point in doing it again?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person. I’m just as practical and lacking in sentiment as you.”

  “We’re the smart ones, Willow. We’ve opted for a peaceful exi
stence apart from the highs and lows of being in love. It may not be as exciting, but it’s a lot less dramatic. When are you rejoining Sage?”

  “I’m meeting her in Houston on Tuesday.”

  “Is the reigning queen of country music touring all summer?”

  “Yes. We’ll be wrapping things up in early October. Then she and Jase will head to St. Marys for a while.”

  “When they do that, you can come see me.”

  “I’m not sure I want to be seen with you. Everyone will think I’m the latest woman to catch your wandering eye.”

  “Seeing me with an older woman can only add to my appeal.”

  “Until they find out the truth: that you’ve reached the low point of hanging out with your sister.”

  “You’re no one’s low point, Willow. You could have any man you want. All you have to do is remove the ‘do not touch’ sign you’ve got hanging around your neck.”

  “Would you look at the time? I can’t stand around talking to you all day. I’ve got a million things to do before I leave town. Take care of yourself, little brother. In spite of what you think, you’re not indestructible. Even your super human body needs time to heal.”

  “Don’t forget what I said about coming to Columbus.”

  “I won’t.”

  Jackson laughed as he put down the phone. Willow’s comments about his indestructibility were a reference to all the years he spent racing motorcycles. That weekend hobby resulted in quite a few trips to the ER. His more serious injuries included a broken leg, cracked ribs, and two concussions, but none of those had hurt as badly as appendicitis. It made his vacation memorable for all the wrong reasons.

  When he left Nashville four years ago, he knew he’d never return to his hometown on a permanent basis. It was easier to live a lie when he wasn’t constantly around the people he was trying to protect. But he hadn’t escaped the guilt of knowing he was in possession of a secret that could destroy the happiness of two families. It wasn’t true that time heals all wounds; some of them only get worse.

  That’s what he’d been thinking about when the woman at the rest area ran into him. Maybe he should have thanked her for giving his thoughts a different direction. He’d been expecting tears or worse. Instead he got an apology and a smile that made the phrase ‘being thrown for a loop’ actually make sense. That was the only explanation for why he’d agreed to take care of what would likely be an expensive repair.

  Was it also why he’d dished out that corny compliment? It was cringe-worthy for someone who made his living speaking. She must have thought so, too. The look she gave him wasn’t exactly appreciative. A disgusted grunt escaped him. Why was he worried about it? They were ships that pass in the night. He would never see the woman or her lovely smile again.

  Chapter Two

  As Violet came down the stairs of the townhouse she shared with Rachel, she heard the familiar notes of Mozart’s Overture to “The Marriage of Figaro” coming from the direction of the kitchen. When she entered the sunny room with its pale yellow walls and light oak cabinets, her friend was removing a batch of scones from the oven. Waiting expectantly on a nearby stool for any kind of handout was Bluebell.

  “Those smell delicious.”

  Rachel’s ready smile appeared. “Let’s hope my clients like them. I took the advice of one of the chefs on the cooking channel and added goat cheese and chives to my usual recipe.”

  “Sounds like a winner to me.” Violet dropped a kiss on Bluebell’s furry gray head and reached for the bag of cat food.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I already fed her. She was meowing the house down. Where are you off to so early on your day off?”

  “Summer texted me at midnight in a panic. She forgot about the report she’s supposed to have ready for the accountant. I’m going to run by there and see if I can help her put it together.”

  “She’s really lost without Holly, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. Second Time Around definitely isn’t the same. There was never a dull moment with a baby in the shop. Rebecca was an instant conversation starter. Do you need any help with that event at the civic center this afternoon?”

  “Cory and I can handle today, but I’ll definitely need you this weekend.”

  “No problem. After I finish with Summer, I’m going to the music store and then the flea market. Do you want me to look for anything?”

  “I could use some clear glass serving plates, the bigger the better. I also need some tea lights. There’s a woman there who sells them in boxes of a hundred. Get me two.”

  “Glass serving plates and tea lights. Got it.” After filling her thermal mug with coffee, she swiped a warm scone from the cooling rack. “Have a nice day.”

  Fifteen minutes later she was pulling in next to Summer’s black Mercedes, a first year anniversary present from her husband Garrett. The comparison to Leonie was laughable, but Violet didn’t mind. Her car might be old, but it had character. Leonie had passed through all five of the Langston children starting with Lance and ending with Violet. She had earned her place as part of the family. Getting rid of her because she wasn’t shiny and new seemed cruel. She should be allowed to grow old gracefully.

  A loud groan followed by the sound of something hitting the wall greeted her when she walked through the door of her sister’s consignment shop. “How’s it going?” she asked, coming to stand in the doorway of the tiny office.

  Summer waved a hand at the papers scattered across the surface of the desk. “I’m going to get audited; that’s how it’s going.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re married to an attorney. He should be able to keep you out of jail.”

  “He’s a corporate lawyer; not a tax expert.”

  “I’m not either, but I’m the best you’ve got. Go call Holly and see if Rebecca has another tooth. I can’t work with you in here.”

  Summer practically leapt out of the chair, only too happy to comply. With a grin, she picked up the shoe she’d thrown. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

  It took Violet an hour to reduce the jumble of sales receipts and invoices into a manageable report. It took another twenty minutes to explain to her stubborn sister that dry cleaning bills for personal items, lunch dates with Garrett, and car washes for her Mercedes weren’t deductible as business expenses.

  With Summer taken care of, Violet could now turn her attention to her own activities. The maze of one-lane roads crisscrossing downtown Columbus were already lined with cars, not surprising given that it was a Monday morning. After going around twice, she found an open space across the street from the music store. Parallel parking had never been her thing, but after three attempts, she managed to squeeze in between a delivery truck and a Harley-Davidson.

  Just inside the entrance to Stairway to Heaven was a Steinway Concert Grand surrounded by protective Plexiglas. It had been there as long as Violet could remember. She’d walked by it every Thursday afternoon on the way to her piano lesson with Mrs. Bowker. She could still remember the few times she was permitted to sit on the stool and touch the keys. There was nothing like playing on a Steinway. The clarity of notes and quality of sound was unrivaled.

  The reason for her visit today was because she’d made the mistake of letting a customer borrow one of her music books. When it was returned to her, it was missing several pages and a few others had coffee stains on them. Violet was in the process of replacing them. The sheet music section was near the back of the store, and as such, it didn’t receive a lot of attention from the store clerks. It reminded her of Summer’s office. Nothing was where it should have been.

  As she flicked through what was supposed to be song titles starting with ‘M’, she noticed a man wearing a leather jacket and black jeans enter the aisle. This wasn’t exactly the attire for a warm June day. Was he the owner of the Harley? It was a good thing she didn’t bump into it when she was trying to park. That would have been two accidents in the last two weeks.

  An involu
ntary laugh escaped her at the thought. She felt more than saw the man glance in her direction. She turned to explain the reason for her amusement and found herself staring into a face she hadn’t expected to see again. Mr. Wonderful didn’t seem nearly as surprised to see her. Instead of commenting on the obvious, he pointed to the sheet music in her hand.

  “Are you a fan of Dan Fogelberg?”

  Violet forced her mind away from the startling coincidence of running into someone she’d last seen two weeks ago in a location over a hundred miles away. “Yes, I am.”

  “Me, too. Which song is your favorite?”

  “My favorite? Hmm. That’s a hard question. I guess I’d have to say ‘Longer’.”

  “That was the first Dan Fogelberg song I learned to play on the guitar. What instrument do you play?”

  “The piano, but I’m not very good.”

  “It’s not how good you are that matters, but how it makes you feel when you’re doing it.” He held out his hand. “We didn’t get around to introducing ourselves last time we met. I’m Jackson Redmayne.”

  His name sounded familiar, but Violet couldn’t immediately place it. She took hold of his outstretched hand. “Hi, Jackson. I’m Violet Langston. Is your SUV okay?”

  “As good as new. Are you in town for the arts and crafts fair at the trade center?”

  She smiled. “Not quite. I live here. How about you?”

  “I’m a transplant from Tennessee.” A rumble of thunder sounded overhead. “I hope you have an umbrella.”

  “I don’t, but that’s okay. Getting wet doesn’t bother me.”

  “Me, either. Why else would I be on a motorcycle when the forecast is sixty percent thunderstorms?”

  “So that’s your bike outside?”

  His fascinating eyes twinkled with amusement. “It is. Have you ever ridden on a Harley?”

  She laughed at the thought. “No, and I don’t plan to. They’re like bicycles on steroids.”

  “It would only take one ride to change your mind.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll just stick with things that have four wheels and a floor.”