Snow Day Read online
The Ex-Wife
Megan McNeil is genuinely happy to escort her little girls to their father’s wedding in Kauai, Hawaii—even though she feels like a third wheel. One gorgeous groomsman definitely disagrees. But are they both carrying too much baggage to begin a new romance?
The Best Man
Devlin Marshall won’t let anything spoil his buddy’s big day—not even his own rocky marriage. Secrets and mistrust have divided him from his Amy, but the love in the air seems to be catching’
The Sister
Family comes first. Deep down, Gabi Foster knows it, but this holiday is hurting her career. Can a sweet, sexy surfing instructor convince her that love is worth more than a business deal?
Praise for
New York Times bestselling author
Shannon Stacey
“The perfect antidote for the winter doldrums.
Stacey’s family drama is equal parts steamy romance and coming-of-age story.”
—RT Book Reviews on All He Ever Dreamed
“Shannon Stacey is one of my favorite contemporary romance authors. Her…books are always full of fun, warm characters, great small towns
and really sexy relationships.”
—USA TODAY on All He Ever Desired
“A fun read with characters you latch on to
and don’t want to let go of.”
—USA TODAY on Slow Summer Kisses
Praise for USA TODAY bestselling author
Jennifer Greene
“Greene’s lowcountry romance is heavenly, filled with memorable characters [and] Southern charm.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Baby Bump
“Distinctive characters and witty dialogue…
make this one a sweet, delightful read.”
—RT Book Reviews on Little Matchmakers
Praise for USA TODAY bestselling author
Barbara Dunlop
“A charming, laugh-out-loud holiday story’
Dunlop’s characters are passionate,
multilayered, warm and funny.”
—RT Book Reviews on
The Billionaire Who Stole Christmas
“Fun, fiery and utterly delightful.”
—RT Book Reviews on An After-Hours Affair
SHANNON STACEY
New York Times bestselling author Shannon Stacey lives with her husband and two sons in New England, where her two favorite activities are writing stories of happily ever after and riding her four-wheeler. You can contact Shannon through her website, www.shannonstacey.com, or visit her on Twitter and Facebook. You can also email her at [email protected].
JENNIFER GREENE
USA TODAY bestselling author Jennifer Greene has sold over eighty books in the contemporary romance genre. Her first professional writing award came from RWA—a Silver Medallion in 1984—followed by over twenty national awards, including being honored in RWA’s Hall of Fame. In 2009, Jennifer was given the RWA Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Jennifer is currently raising two Australian Shepherds, is married to her own personal hero and lives in orchard country near Lake Michigan. Visit her website at www.jennifergreene.com.
BARBARA DUNLOP
USA TODAY bestselling author Barbara Dunlop has written more than thirty-five novels for Harlequin, including the acclaimed Colorado Cattle Barons series for the Harlequin Desire line. Her sexy, lighthearted stories regularly hit bestsellers lists. Barbara has twice been short-listed for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award. Visit her website, www.barbaradunlop.com.
Shannon Stacey
JENNIFER GREENE
BARBARA DUNLOP
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Heart of the Storm by Shannon Stacey
Seeing Red by Jennifer Greene
Land's End by Barbara Dunlop
Heart of the Storm
Shannon Stacey
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
NOTHING MADE DELANEY WESTCOTT happier than four o’clock coming around on the last business day of December.
Being the deputy municipal clerk in her hometown of Tucker’s Point, Maine, was usually a low-key job she enjoyed, but the stampede of people who’d realized it was the last day to register their vehicles would try the patience of a saint. And Delaney was no saint. Even after four years in the office, she had to brace herself for the panicked rush between the Christmas and New Year’s holidays.
“Highway robbery if you ask me,” Mrs. Keller muttered, slapping her checkbook down on the counter, just as she did every single year.
Delaney half expected the leather checkbook cover to creak and release a plume of dust and moths when the woman opened it. “How was your Christmas, Mrs. Keller?”
“I would have spent less on presents if I’d remembered you were going to rob me blind again.”
Every year, Delaney thought again. “Did your grandbabies enjoy the holiday?”
Mrs. Keller’s face, as worn and creased as her checkbook cover, softened. “They sure did.”
“I heard Courtney had the croup again. Is she feeling better?”
“That baby takes after her mother,” she said, shaking her head. “I swear my Becky spent half her childhood bent over a pan of hot water with a towel draped over her head. Now she has to do the same thing with Courtney.”
By the time Delaney finished processing Mrs. Keller’s registration renewal, the woman had forgotten her complaints and she even offered a “Happy New Year” on her way out. When you worked with the public in the town you’d grown up in, it didn’t take very long to get everybody’s numbers. Mrs. Keller had a reputation for being cantankerous, but she was a marshmallow when it came to her grandchildren.
Ten minutes later, Delaney looked up to take the paperwork from the last customer of the year and almost laughed. Mike Huckins had a rumpled and frazzled look about him that went beyond the post-holiday haze the rest of the town was in. Having a two-week-old baby would do that to a man.
“Sandy called me in a panic,” Mike said. “She totally forgot we had to register the car this month.”
“At least you guys have a good excuse.” Delaney took the handful of crumpled papers from him and smoothed them out. “How’s Noah?”
“Loud. But he’s doing good.”
“And Sandy?”
Mike sighed. “She’s exhausted, of course. But she’s doing good. You should stop in and visit for a while if you get a chance.”
“I will. New moms don’t get a lot of company.”
“They sure don’t. Brody’s coming in Sunday, though, for an overnight visit.”
Delaney froze, except for her fingers, which curled into fists and crumpled a paper she’d just smoothed.
“Sandy hasn’t seen her brother since we all went to Vegas for our wedding,” Mike continued, “so you can just imagine how excited she is.”
Unlike Delaney, who hadn’t seen him in the five years since his mother handed her the note he’d left, telling Delaney he loved her, but he was leaving town and wasn’t coming back. So sorry.
But now he was coming back to Tucker’s Point.
She went through the very familiar process of
renewing Mike’s registration while he talked about their new baby, but part of her mind couldn’t let go of the fact Brody was returning to town.
Even through locking up the office and driving to the market, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, which made her angry. He hadn’t cared enough to tell her he was leaving town, so he wasn’t worth thinking about. She’d done enough of that crying herself to sleep every night for weeks after he’d left. So he was going to his sister’s overnight. Big deal. Delaney would simply put off visiting Sandy until she was sure he was gone and, since she planned to spend the weekend curled up in front of her television, there was no chance she’d run into him.
She was surprised to see how full the parking lot was, even for a Friday afternoon. Then she remembered it was New Year’s Eve and figured there was a run on booze and snacks. Surprisingly, there had also been a run on bread and milk, she found as she wandered up and down the aisles a bit.
“Did the weather forecast change while I was at work?” she asked Cindy, the cashier, when it was her turn to check out.
Cindy rolled her eyes. “Not that I’ve heard. A little snow, but everybody’s stocking up like the ice storm of ’98’s on its way back through.”
“That was a doozy, for sure.” And now that she was a volunteer for the town emergency shelter, should it need to be open, she hoped they wouldn’t have another storm like that anytime soon.
She took the scenic road home, which took her along the coast for a few miles before turning back inland to the house she’d grown up in and had rented from her parents since they made the decision to move to Florida three years before. Driving calmed her and she desperately needed that. She needed to leave thoughts of Brody in her past, where they belonged.
Pulling off into a scenic area, she pulled a granola bar out of one of her grocery bags but, after a moment’s hesitation, she traded it for the candy bar she’d bought on impulse. This day definitely called for chocolate therapy.
Unfortunately, off in the distance beyond the gray winter ocean, she could make out part of the roof of the Ambroise estate, which never failed to make her think of Brody. It was a beautiful place, set out on a jutting piece of land, and she used to daydream about winning the lottery and buying it. Brody could quit fishing and they’d fill the place with kids.
It hadn’t worked out that way for anybody. Sophie Ambroise had passed away and, thanks to working in the town hall, she knew the place had been rezoned from residential to commercial. Somebody would turn it into a hotel, she thought. Brody had left town and Delaney certainly hadn’t won the lottery.
With her mood matching the turbulent waves below her, Delaney pulled her car back onto the road and headed for home. She was going to spend the weekend with her television, a couple of good books and the gallon of ice cream that had simply jumped into her cart.
Come Monday morning, she’d go back to work and Brody would go back to wherever he’d come from. Life would go on.
* * *
THE PLAN WAS simple. Fly into Portland on Sunday and rent a car—upgrading to an all-wheel-drive model in deference to the snow—and then drive into Tucker’s Point. Once he’d done the ooh-and-ah thing over his newborn nephew, he’d spend the night and then drive right back out again Monday morning.
Brody Rollins didn’t intend to spend one minute longer than he had to in his hometown. He’d left the place five years ago, and he hadn’t thought anything could drag him back again. Then his only sister, Sandy, had her first child. Her need for her brother to see baby Noah had, over several phone calls, overcome his reluctance to ever step foot in Maine again.
Even though the “Welcome to Tucker’s Point” sign was as familiar as the area it welcomed him to, Brody relied on the rental’s GPS to guide him off Route 1 and through town. It was a blessing that Sandy’s husband, Mike, worked for the town instead of fishing, so they had a small house in a residential section away from the harbor. Not the picturesque marina for the tourists, but the rough and dirty harbor the lobster boats called home. Sandy’s residence wasn’t necessarily in the postcard-pretty part of town, but it wasn’t one of the run-down houses by the docks they’d grown up in, either.
He finally found the place—a small, tidy Cape with green shutters, set back from the road—and pulled up the driveway, parking behind the well-used navy sedan Sandy had described. After killing the engine, he climbed out and stretched his back, inhaling deeply.
At least the frigid temperature and falling snow neutralized the smell. The briny air, reeking of fish and desperation, was so pervasive he’d bought himself all new clothes when he left town because he was convinced he could still smell Tucker’s Point no matter how many trips he made to the Laundromat.
At the time he’d made do with stiff, coarse jeans and thin T-shirts from the discount store. Now his jeans were almost as soft as his merino-and-cashmere-blend sweater, and the soles of his boots weren’t worn through. He didn’t squander his money on fancy labels, but what he did buy was good quality and made to last.
Brody was halfway up the walk when the front door opened and, despite his reluctance to return to Tucker’s Point, his heart squeezed at the sight of his sister. It had been two years since he’d seen her, and being a wife and new mother had changed her. She had the soft, rounded look of a woman who’d just had a baby, and her long, brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was a little pale and had dark circles under eyes the same soft shade of green as his, but he guessed that came with the new, first-time-mom territory.
She hugged him fiercely. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I’ve missed you.” He squeezed her back, then chuckled when an angry shriek echoed through the house. “I guess it’s time to meet my nephew.”
Sandy led him to the bassinet set up in the living room and lifted Noah out. His volume level didn’t go down any but his sister passed Noah to him, anyway. Brody held the tiny bundle of ticked-off baby, looking down into his face. It was red and scrunched up, and Brody thought he was cute as hell.
“He looks just like you do when you’re hungry,” he said, smiling at his sister.
“Funny.” She took the baby, changed him, and then curled up at one end of the couch. “Will this bother you?”
“Nope.” His sister breastfeeding her son wouldn’t bother him anywhere near as much as the ear-splitting decibels the miniature kid was presently producing.
He walked to the window, giving her a little privacy while she got Noah settled. “It looks like it’s changing over to ice. And the wind’s picking up.”
“I’m still doing the sleep when the baby sleeps thing, so I haven’t even watched the weather. Mike said he’d be working overtime, but he didn’t say anything about ice.”
“Neither did the radio. Some snow, but no mention of ice.” Driving in snow was no big deal, but the last thing he wanted was for Tucker’s Point to become an ice rink and keep him from catching his plane home tomorrow.
They caught up while she fed Noah. She told him how well working for the town was going for Mike, and asked about his business. He flipped real estate and the market was tight, but he was careful and still had enough money in the bank so he slept at night. They talked about the baby and how she and Mike were still debating on whether or not she’d return to her job keeping books for the local doctor once her maternity leave was up.
She’d just finished laying the baby back in the bassinet when a massive gust of wind hit the house, driving ice against the window panes and making her jump. “It’s getting bad out there really fast.”
“Hopefully this is just a fluke and it’ll turn back over to snow pretty soon.”
“Are you going to see Mom and Dad while you’re here?” Sandy asked the question in a casual enough tone, but the way she picked at the side of her thumbnail gave away her tension.
He didn’t want to. Walking int
o that shabby and depressing little house he’d grown up in was the last thing he wanted to do. “Did you tell them I was coming?”
“I might have mentioned it to Mom.”
Of course she had. “I might stop in for a few minutes on my out tomorrow.”
As tempting as it was to accidentally run late and not have time, he’d do it.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love his parents. He did. Talked to them all the time on the phone, and his mom had even mastered Facebook so she could keep tabs on him. And he’d seen them during the past five years. Once, when he’d been working in Connecticut, he’d talked them into driving down for a weekend at the casino on his dime. And, two years ago, when Sandy had announced her engagement to Mike, he’d talked them all into joining him in Las Vegas for what was the wedding trip of a lifetime for a couple from Tucker’s Point.
He’d simply managed to avoid seeing them in their natural habitat, so to speak. Just thinking about his childhood home, with its ancient brown tweed couch and insulation-deep stench of cigarette smoke and the sea, made him feel claustrophobic.
But Brody had hurt his mom enough by taking off in the middle of the night five years before. He couldn’t hurt her again by avoiding seeing her when he was only a few minutes away.
He tried not to think about the other woman he’d hurt, maybe even more than he’d hurt his mother.
Delaney Westcott had been expecting a future with him. They were nearing the point of proposal, followed by a wedding, a cheap apartment over a fishermen’s bar and babies. Instead, she’d gotten a note telling her he was gone because he didn’t have the guts to face her.
“You need to spend more than a few minutes with them,” Sandy said in an admonishing tone that made her sound just like their mother.
“I’ll visit for a while. More than a few minutes. But I can’t stay too long because I have a plane to catch so I can get back to work.” And out of Tucker’s Point.
That was when the power went out.