Read, Write, Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons, Book 5) Contemporary Romance (23 page)

MONDAY MORNING GREETED them with sunshine, a warm breeze, and surety. Kurt felt invigorated. Alive. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d made the right decision coming back to the Cape.
Coming back to Leanna
. He’d thought writing was everything, and he’d been so wrong that it was almost embarrassing. He had a lot to learn about life, and he looked forward to experiencing and learning it all with Leanna.

He called Jackie and scheduled a Skype meeting instead of a person-to-person meeting. Jackie told him he was the last of the holdouts, that she met with most of her clients via Skype, and not to worry about moving out of New York. It wouldn’t have mattered what she said. He’d made up his mind, and his life was with Leanna, wherever that may lead them, and at the moment it was leading them to his cottage.

They walked along the dune overlooking the beach. Leanna had on a pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a white tank top, and with the morning breeze blowing her hair off of her shoulders and the sun glistening against her silky skin, she couldn’t have looked more beautiful. God, he’d missed her. His heart swelled with love as he took her hand and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

“I want a life with you. A whole life, Leanna. Not just part-time, and not just when things are good. I want to experience your world, and I want you to experience mine. You’re my final chapter, Leanna. No revisions necessary. Live with me here, where we first met. Build a life with me.”

Her forehead wrinkled and her lower lip trembled. She trapped it between her teeth and pressed her hands to his chest. “There’s no place on earth I’d rather be.”

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly; then, with Pepper at their heels, they crossed the lawn toward the studio.

“I forgot you even had a studio.”

“It’s not really a studio anymore. The renovations aren’t yet complete, but soon...” He unlocked the arched wooden door and pushed it open.

Leanna took a step inside and drew in a deep breath. She reached for Kurt’s hand as her gaze slid along the wall of custom cabinetry to their right. Blue was right; the warm bronze, beiges, and golds of the granite brought warmth to the hickory cabinets. There were still a number of cabinets to be hung, but the project was taking shape and the studio already felt homier, more like Leanna. She looked up at the exposed-beam ceiling, and finally, her eyes came to rest on the four stainless-steel ovens and stovetops that had yet to be installed, but he knew she could visualize the end result.

“Kurt,” she said barely above a whisper. “You did this for me?” She walked farther into the room, one slow step at a time.

“We met on this property, so I thought you might want a place for your business that was meaningful.”

Leanna ran her fingers along the granite countertop. She touched the fine wood finish of the cabinetry with both hands and turned damp eyes to Kurt.

 “You took a big chance on me.”

He folded her in his arms. “Did I? You didn’t feel like a
chance
at all. You felt like fate.”

“Fate,” she whispered. Leanna pressed her hands to his chest and gazed up at him with a dreamy, loving gaze. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’ve spent years living in the minds of fictional characters and wrapped up in fictional worlds. I want to spend the rest of my life wrapped up in you, Leanna Bray, living in the very real world that we create together.”

The End

Recipes for Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats are included at the end of this book

Please enjoy a preview of the next
Love in Bloom novel

Taken by Love

The Bradens

L
ove in Bloom Series

M
elissa
F
oster

DAISY HONEY JUGGLED a cup of coffee, a cake she’d bought for her mother, a bag of two chocolate-dipped doughnuts—because a girl’s gotta have something sweet in her life, and this was about all the sweetness she had time for at the moment—and her keys.

“You sure you got that, sugar?” Margie Holmes had worked at the Town Diner for as long as Daisy could remember. With her outdated feathered hairstyle and old-fashioned, pink waitress uniform, Margie was as much a landmark in Trusty, Colorado, as the backdrop of the Colorado Mountains and miles and miles of farms and ranches. Trusty was a far cry from Philly, where Daisy had just completed her medical residency in family practice, and it was the last place she wanted to be.

Daisy glanced at the clock. She had ten minutes to get to work.
Work
. If she could call working as a temporary doctor at the Trusty Urgent Care Clinic
work
. She’d worked damn hard to obtain her medical degree with the hopes of leaving the Podunk town behind, but the idea of relocating had been delayed when her father fell off the tractor and injured his back. She’d never turn her back on her family, even if she’d rather be starting her career elsewhere. She supposed it was good timing—if there was such a thing. Daisy had been offered permanent positions in Chicago and New York, and she had four weeks to accept or decline the offers. She hoped by then her father would either have hired someone to manage the farm or decided if he was going to sell—an idea she was having a difficult time stomaching, since the farm had been in her family for generations. Since the closest hospital or family physician was forty-five minutes away, and the urgent care clinic picked up the slack in the small town, Daisy was happy to have found temporary employment in her field even if it wasn’t ideal.

 “Yeah, I’ve got it. Thanks for the cake, Margie. Mom will love it.” She pushed the door open with her butt—
thank you, doughnuts—
just as someone tugged it open, causing her to stumble. As if in slow motion, the cake tipped to the side. Daisy slammed her eyes shut to avoid seeing the beautiful triple-layer chocolate-almond cake crash to the ground.

There was no telltale
clunk!
of the box hitting the floor. She opened one eye and was met with a pair of muscled pecs attached to broad shoulders and six foot something of unadulterated male beefcake oozing pure male sexuality—and he was holding her mother’s cake in one large hand, safe and sound.

She swallowed hard against the sizzling heat radiating off of Luke Braden, one of only two men in Trusty who had ever stood up for her—and the man whose face she pictured on lonely nights. When she’d decided to come back to Trusty, her mind had immediately raced back to Luke. She’d wondered—maybe even hoped—she’d run into him. Residency had been all-consuming and exhausting, with working right through thirty-six-hour shifts. She hadn’t had time to even think about dating, much less had time for actual dating. Her body tingled in places that hadn’t been touched by a man in a very long time.

“I think it’s okay.” With smoldering dark eyes and a wickedly naughty grin, he eyed the cake.

His deep voice shuddered through her.
Okay, Daisy. Get ahold of yourself. He might have saved you in high school, but that was eleven years ago.
He was no longer the cute boy with long bangs that covered perpetually hungry eyes. No, Luke Braden was anything but a boy, and by the look on his face, he had no recollection of who she was, making the torch she’d carried for him all these years heavy as lead.

“Thank you.” She reached for the cake, and he pulled it just out of reach as his eyes took a slow stroll down her body, which was enough to weaken her knees
and
wake her up. She’d left Trusty after high school and had purposely found work near her college and med school during summers and breaks, so her memory of the people she’d gone to school with was sketchy at best after eleven years, but his was a face she’d never forget.

“You’ve got your hands full. Why don’t I carry it to your car?” His dark hair was cut short on the sides. The top was longer, thick and windblown in that sexy way that only happened in magazines. His square jaw was peppered with rough stubble, and Daisy had the urge to reach out and stroke it.
His stubble, that is
.

Luke looked like one of those guys who took what they wanted and left a trail of women craving more in their wake, and in high school his reputation had been just that.
Carry the cake to my car? Like that won’t end up with you trying to carry me to your bed?
The idea sent another little shudder through her. It was exactly what she’d been hoping—and waiting—for.

He had been two years ahead of Daisy in school, and because she’d spent her high school years fighting a reputation she didn’t deserve, she’d kept a low profile. She’d darkened her hair in medical school to combat the stereotypical harassment that went along with having blond hair, blue eyes, and a body that she took care of. Now, thanks to a six-dollar box of dye every few weeks, it was a medium shade of brown. She’d never forget the time in her sophomore year when Luke had stood up for her. She’d carried a fantasy of him thinking of her for all these years.
Was I really that invisible to you?
 Apparently, she was, because by the look on his face, he didn’t recognize her, which stung like salt in a wound.

Her eyes caught on a flash of silver on his arm. Duct tape? She squinted to be sure. Yes, the wide strip of silver on his bulging biceps was indeed duct tape, and there was blood dripping from beneath it.

He followed her gaze to his arm with a shrug. “Scraped it on some wire at my ranch.”

She should take her cake and walk right out the door, but the medical professional in her took over—and the hurt woman in her refused to believe he could have forgotten her that easily. She took a step back into the diner. “Margie, can I borrow your first aid kit?”

Luke’s brows knitted together as he followed her inside. “If that’s for me, I don’t need it. Really.”

Margie handed Daisy the first aid kit from beneath the counter. “Here you go, sugar.” She eyed the tall, dark man, and her green eyes warmed. “Luke, are you causing trouble again?”

He arched a thick, dark brow. “Hardly. I’m meeting Emily here, but I’m a little early.”

“Good, because the last thing you need is more trouble.” Margie gave him a stern look as she came around the counter, and he flashed a warm smile, the kind a person reserved for those he cared about.

Daisy felt a stab of jealousy and quickly chided herself for it. She’d been back in town for only two weeks, and she had kept as far away from gossip as she could, but she couldn’t help wondering what type of trouble Luke had gotten into. Her life was crazy enough without a guy in it. Especially a guy with enticing eyes and a sexy smile who deserved the reputation she didn’t. She focused on his arm and slipped into doctor mode, which she was, thankfully, very good at. In doctor mode she could separate the injured patient from the hot guy.

Luke shot a look at Daisy, then back to Margie. “Can’t believe everything you hear.”

I bet
.

“Glad to hear that.” Margie touched his arm like she might her son. “I have to help the customers, but it’s good to see you, Luke.”

He flashed that killer smile again, then shifted his eyes back to Daisy, who was armed and ready with antiseptic. “I don’t allow strangers to undress my wounds.” He held out a hand. “Luke.”

“You really don’t remember me.” Even though she’d seen it in his eyes, it still burned. “Daisy Honey?”

His sexy smile morphed into an amused one, and that amusement reached his eyes. “Was that Daisy, honey, or Daisy Honey, as in your full name?”

She bit back the ache of reality that he didn’t even remember her name and passed it off with an eye roll. She turned his arm so she could inspect his duct-tape bandage. “Daisy Honey, as in my given name.”

He laughed at that, a deep, hearty, friendly laugh.

She ripped the tape off fast, exposing a nasty gash in his upper arm.

“Hey.” He wrenched his arm away. “With a name like Daisy Honey, I thought you’d be sweet.”

She blinked several times, and with her sweetest voice she said, “With a name like Luke Braden, I thought you’d be more manly.”
Shit. I can’t believe I said that.

“Ouch. You don’t mince words, do you?” He rubbed his arm. “I was kidding. I know who you are. I get my hay from your dad. I just didn’t recognize you. The last time I saw you, your hair was blond.” He ran his eyes down her body again, and damn if it didn’t make her hot all over. “And you sure as hell didn’t look like that.”

You do remember me!
She ignored Luke’s comment about her looks, secretly tucking it away with delight, and went to work cleaning his cut. “How’d you do this, anyway?” She felt his eyes on her as she swabbed the dried blood from his skin.

“I was walking past a fence and didn’t see the wire sticking out. Tore right through my shirt.” He rolled down the edge of his torn sleeve just above his cut.

“Barbed wire, like your tattoo?”
Your hot, sexy, badass tattoo that wraps around your incredibly hard muscle?

He eyed his tattoo with a half-cocked smile. “Regular fence wire.”

“Was it rusty?” She tried to ignore the heat of his assessing gaze.

He shrugged again, which seemed to be a common answer for him.

“When was your last tetanus shot?” She finished cleaning the cut and placed a fresh bandage over it before wrapping the dirty swabs in a napkin.

He shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You won’t be if you get tetanus. You should stop by the medical clinic for a shot. Any of the nurses can administer it for you.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and checked the time. She was definitely late, and he was definitely checking her out. Her stomach did a little flip.

“Are you a nurse?” He rolled up his torn sleeve again.

“Doctor, actually,” she said with pride. She wondered if seeing her helping
him
stirred the memory of when he stood up for her all those years ago. By the look in his eyes, she doubted it. He had that first-meeting look, the one that read,
I wonder if I have a shot,
rather than the look of,
You’re that girl everyone said was a slut.

He nodded, and his eyes turned serious. “Well, thank you, Dr. Daisy Honey. I appreciate the care and attention you’ve given to my flesh.”

He said
my flesh
with a sensual and evocative tone that tripped her up. She opened her mouth to respond and no words came.

Margie returned to the counter. “Can I get you something, Luke?”

Thankful for the distraction, Daisy pushed the first aid kit across the counter, then gathered her things. “Thanks, Margie.”

“I’d love coffee and two eggs over easy with toast,” Luke said.

Daisy felt his eyes on her as she struggled to handle the cake, bag, and coffee again.

“Coming right up, sugar.” Margie disappeared into the kitchen, and Daisy headed for the door.

He touched her arm and batted his long, dark lashes. “You’re just going to dress my wound and leave? I feel so cheap.”

Despite herself, she had to laugh. “That was actually kind of cute.”

He narrowed his eyes, and it about stole her breath. “Cute? Not at all what I was going for.”

Then you hit your mark, because it wasn’t cute that’s making my pulse race
.

He held the door open for her. “I hope to see you around Daisy, honey.”

 “Tetanus isn’t fun. You should get the shot.” She forced her legs to carry her away from his heated gaze.

LUKE THOUGHT ABOUT Daisy as he sat in a booth drinking coffee and waiting for his sister to arrive. Luke bought hay from Daisy’s father, and he’d known David Honey’s daughter was coming back into town for a few weeks, but he’d never have connect the Daisy Honey he met today, with her entrancing blue eyes and way-too-sexy body, with the white-blond girl who used to walk through the halls of school with her head down, trying desperately to be invisible. Daisy’s eyes were sharper and wiser than they’d been all those years ago, and there was something else about this new, grown-up Daisy that had captivated him. When she touched him, the air between them sizzled. She’d done everything possible to keep him from seeing that she’d felt it too, and for some strange reason, that intrigued him.

He was still thinking about her when Emily slapped an armful of drawings and folders down on the table.

“You are such a pain. I can’t believe after I asked you a dozen times if you were sure you wanted the bed and bath separate, and I begged you—
begged you
—not to do it that way, that now you want to change it.” She tossed her straight dark hair over her shoulder and straightened her white silk blouse and black pencil skirt before sitting down. Emily was an architect and owned a design build company. She was also becoming an expert in the field of sustainable energy. “This would have been much easier if you’d listened to me at the beginning—but…” She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “Then again, if you had listened to me, I could have built you a passive house, and you could have saved seventy percent on your energy bills—”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Sit down and chill.” Emily was fourteen months older than Luke, and at the moment she was giving him the same narrow-eyed, knitted-brow stare he’d seen too many times growing up. “Maybe you should skip the coffee this morning.”

“Ha-ha.” She flagged down Margie and ordered coffee. Black. Emily had always been feisty, and Luke supposed she had to be, growing up with five brothers. “So, are we just modifying the bed and bath in the apartment above the barn, or did you decide to move the kitchen to the other side of the apartment as well?”

He knew moving the plumbing and the framing was going to be a pain in the ass for Emily and her staff. He’d never ask another builder to move the plumbing; he’d have left it as it was originally designed. But just as Emily had no issue calling him at three a.m. to discuss a dream she’d had or to show up unannounced with a bottle of wine when she needed to vent with someone she trusted, he knew she probably had expected his changes and was relieved he’d made them before the walls were erected.