Read, Write, Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons, Book 5) Contemporary Romance (4 page)

He couldn’t do much more than watch and follow. Leanna befuddled him. No one befuddled Kurt Remington. He was unflappable. Or at least he’d always thought he was.

“Oh, gosh, you were working.” She leaned over his computer screen.

Kurt closed the laptop. “Writing.”

Her eyes grew serious. “You don’t like people to read as you write? No worries. I get that, I guess. In case you want to change something? You don’t want that person to know you changed what you’d written?”

What? No. Or at least I don’t think that’s why I do it.
Holy cow. Now she had him questioning his writing practices in ways he never had.

“I have beta readers and editors who read my work before publication.”

She flopped down on a chair with another stomach-rattling smile. “What’s a beta reader?”

Distracted by Leanna and by her dog, who had made himself at home on Kurt’s chair, he answered cryptically. “A beta reader. Test reader before publication.” He glared at Pepper and pointed to the deck. “Off.”

Pepper jumped down.

“You need to teach me that,” Leanna said.

“What?”

“
That
. Off. Sit. The way you get him to listen to you.” She leaned her head back and dropped her arms to the sides of the chair. “It’s so nice out here. You have the breeze from the ocean, the sunshine, privacy...”

Privacy?
Kurt could think of a hundred things to do when a woman was in that position—and he’d never once thought about doing them on his deck. Until now. The thought of Leanna naked in the chair aroused him. He brushed the sand Pepper had so kindly left behind from his chair and sat down before she could notice. Not that she seemed to notice much. She made herself right at home.

He eyed the basket to keep his mind off of the way a bead of sweat was heading south between her breasts.

“Thanks for the basket, but you didn’t have to bring me anything.” He grabbed a jar of jam and read the label. “Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats?”
Luscious Leanna?
Holy hell, he was in big trouble.

She sat up and leaned toward him. “I wanted to. You were nice enough to go into the ocean in the middle of a rainstorm and save me and Pepper. Now I know you were probably writing some crazy thriller, so that means I
really
interrupted you.”

As opposed to fake interrupted me?
He had to work hard to pull himself from his writer’s mind-set. She’d crinkled her nose as she’d said
really,
and she was so damn cute he couldn’t do more than watch as she stood and leaned over the railing. He noticed jam handprints across the back pockets of her shorts. Kurt wished they’d been from his hands. She threw her hands up in the air and exhaled loudly, before turning back to him with that glorious smile again.

“You’re so lucky. I mean, this is what you
do
. You write with the ocean in your backyard.” She glanced into the French doors and winced. “I hope your floors survived us.”

She touched his shoulder as she flitted past and sat down on another chair. He liked that warm touch, and she’d done it with a sense of familiarity.
Weird
. He’d never met anyone who was so comfortable in her own skin. Pepper licked the perspiration from Leanna’s legs. Kurt was a little jealous of the pesty little dog. He smiled despite the interruption to his writing—and despite wondering if that jam on her butt was still wet and would ruin his chair.

“They survived just fine.”
But I’m not sure I will
. She stirred all sorts of desires in Kurt that he usually kept under wraps—and drew upon only when his projects were sufficiently complete or when he was ahead of schedule and could spare a few hours to burn off steam. His stomach was doing something strange and unfamiliar, too.
What is that? A flutter? Pang? Ache?
  He ran through a plethora of words that might or might not be accurate.

“What are you thinking about?” Leanna asked.

“What?”

“Your eyebrows are all pinched together, and you were staring at the table like you were deep in thought.” She looked at his computer. “Oh gosh. I interrupted you. I’m so sorry.” She rose to her feet.

Pepper crawled under Kurt’s chair and whined.

He needed to get back to writing. He should just let her go, thank her for the jams and bid her farewell so she could go flit about on some other guy’s deck. Damn if his hand didn’t reach out and land on top of hers.

“Stay.” The word came without thought, surprising him as much as her.

Her eyes widened. “Stay?”

He nodded. “I’m going to write, but you can relax in the sun if you’d like, or take a walk on the beach.”

She looked around. “You don’t mind?”

He shrugged, knowing he was probably making a huge mistake, but something in his crazy gut wanted her around, and he’d never felt that way before. What was an hour or two? She’d get bored and move on, and he would have enjoyed the view of her.

“Sure.” He pulled the laptop closer to him and opened it. “There’s a beach blanket and towels in the linen closet by the laundry room.”

She crinkled her nose and smiled again. Pepper crept out from under his chair and began pawing at his lap.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “No.”

Pepper lay back down.

“Okay, but if we drive you crazy, just say the word and we’ll leave.” She reached for the door handle. “Are you sure? Actually, I have a towel and blanket in my van. I can get it.”

Kurt shook his head and went inside, where he retrieved a blanket and a towel and filled a thermos with ice water. When he returned, Leanna was standing in the center of the deck in a charcoal-gray string bikini, struggling to put her hair up in a ponytail.

Kurt stopped cold. Every sexy curve was on display, from her rounded hips to her full breasts, which were pushed together by barely there swatches of dark material. Two thin lines of fabric ran from her hips to another tiny triangle of gray covering her promised land. He swallowed hard, trying to regain control of his limbs. She wasn’t a rail-thin model; nor was she overly plump. Beneath the tank tops and cutoffs, Leanna Bray was one hundred percent hot, sexy woman, and she stole any chance Kurt had at rational thought.

After securing her hair, she took the towel from his hands. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. I was going to take Pepper to the water later, so this saves us time.” She traced a finger over the tattoo on his chest. “I never would have guessed you to be a tattoo guy.”

It was all he could do to shift his eyes from her rounded breasts to her finger working its way across his bare chest.

“And the one on your arm?” She touched that one, too, and he could tell by the unchanged inflection of her voice that she wasn’t trying to be sexy or flirtatious. She was just being Leanna—curious, sweet.  

And he was getting hard. He cleared his throat and stepped away.

“Thanks. They were a…” Still in shock over everything about Leanna, he was at a loss for words. He was used to being in control, and Leanna was stealing that from him one hot breath at a time.

She cocked her head and looked up at him.

“A whim,” he managed.
Whim?
He’d never done a thing in his life based on a whim.

She smiled. “Really? You don’t strike me as a whim guy. Hm.” She turned and tossed the blanket and towel over her shoulder. “I guess I’ll hit the beach, then. Come on, Pep.” She headed for the beach with a bounce in her step.

Kurt let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. He watched her spread out the towel and lie down on her back, her hands tapping to some silent beat, her lips slightly parted, and Pepper running circles around her. She was
so
not what he needed.
What am I doing?
How was he supposed to think of killing and darkness with that beautiful, touchy-feely, all-too-comfortable-and-happy woman a few feet away?

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang. He needed the distraction.

“Hi, Jackie,” he answered. Jackie Tolson had been his literary agent for six years. She was five feet tall on a good day, weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet, with stick-straight black hair cut severely above her shoulders, and she was as aggressive as a trapped cobra.

“Kurt. How’s life at the Cape?” 

He pictured her leaning back in her pristine Manhattan office furnished top to bottom in leather, mahogany, and white, wearing her Manolo Blahnik strappy heels and designer suit, a pen sticking out between her perfect teeth and her perfectly applied makeup softening her sharp features. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He liked Jackie, and he loved her meticulous nature and her bulldog determination. Professionally, they were a great match.

“The Cape is…” He glanced down at the beach, where Leanna was on her hands and knees, rolling around with Pepper in the sand. “Interesting.”

“Interesting as in
inspiring
, or interesting as in
we’re going to be late with our submission
?”

He watched Leanna chase Pepper into the water. “Have I ever missed a deadline?”

“No, and I’m just waiting for the day you do. I’m not sure if I’ll celebrate that you finally have a life or I’ll hate you for making us look bad.”

“If I ever miss a deadline I think you’ll be second in line to shoot me.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll shoot yourself first. I’ve heard it from the best of them. Everyone misses a deadline at some point. Did you hear from Layton?”

Layton was Kurt’s editor at his publishing house, Partner Press. “Yes. He’s ready and waiting, and we’ll have revisions back sixty days after he receives the manuscript.”

“Good. And I know timely revisions are a piece of cake for you. I wish you could teach your dedication and work habits to the rest of my clients.”

Leanna turned and waved.

“Mm-hmm.”
God, she’s sexy
. He lifted his hand in a semi wave.

“Kurt?”

He wanted to run his hands over every inch of Leanna’s glistening skin and hear her soft voice calling out his name. “Hm?”

“You sound distracted. Is something going on with your family?”

“Family? Uh, yeah. Jack’s getting married at the end of the summer, but everyone’s good. Why?”

“I can’t think of anything else that would distract you. What are you doing right this second?”

She knew him too well. “Going inside to grab some grapes.” Which he did. “Now I’m sitting back down at my computer to nail this scene.”

“Fair enough. What were you doing?”

“Watching a hot chick run through the ocean.”

“Yeah, right.” She laughed. “Okay. Let me know if you run into any issues.”

He ended the call, bothered by her disbelief of him watching Leanna. Was he that boring? It had been weeks since he’d been out on a real date. Before he came to the Cape, his sister, Siena, had set him up with an attractive friend of hers. He’d spent the whole night revising a chapter in his head. Kurt wasn’t a
dater
. He didn’t enjoy small talk, and he had yet to find a woman he preferred over writing. Hell, he had yet to find anything he preferred over being in front of his keyboard and creating heart-pumping literature. Sure, there were women in his life who were available when he had the urge to spend a few hours in the arms of a soft, willing woman, but those nights were on his terms and his schedule. Like everything in Kurt’s life, he believed to do it well, he had to be determined and focused and give it his all. He’d much rather focus on writing.

He sat down at his computer and spent the next two hours trying to concentrate on something other than thoughts of Leanna. He’d just gotten himself centered when Pepper bounded onto the deck, barking.

He slid him a stare. “Hush.”

Pepper whined, then flopped on Kurt’s feet. Kurt kicked him off and Pepper crept right back.
Christ
.

Leanna came up the deck with her hair a tangled mess, sandy from hip to toe, and dragging the sandy blanket and towel behind her.

“That was so much fun. You should have come. How can you sit there and not want to go in the water?” She ran her fingers through her tangles.

How can you not realize how goddamn sexy you are?
“Salt water makes my skin sticky.”

She laughed and flopped into the chair beside him, leaving a sandy path in her wake. When she leaned forward and touched his thigh, he felt a sear of heat blaze a path to his groin. Again. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the droplets of water slipping down her cleavage if his life depended on it.

“It’s supposed to. It’s salt water,” she said as if he were being silly. She leaned back and put one foot on his lap.

He stared at the tan, pretty appendage.

“How’d the writing go? Did you kill someone off?”

“Not yet.” He picked up her foot and held it away from his lap; then he snagged the towel from her lap and gently wiped the sand from her foot, and her ankle, and her knee. Sand piled up beneath her.

She popped a grape into her mouth and lifted her brows. “You planning on removing all the sand from me? Because I think I have some in my butt crack, too.”

He froze.

She laughed. “I’m kidding. Thank you for wiping me off. I guess you don’t like dirt too much, huh?”

He handed her the towel and became hyperfocused on her foot resting too close to his crotch. “I like things to be neat, I guess. But I’m not a neat freak.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed.

“Why is that funny?” He grabbed a handful of grapes and popped one in his mouth to distract himself from her inviting, sandy thigh.

“Because you are a total neat freak. I think it’s cute.” She brushed the sand from her thighs.

He pressed his lips together. “Cute? I’m anything but cute. And I’m not a neat freak.”

She lowered her foot from his lap and leaned in close again. “Let’s see how long you can go without sweeping the sand from the deck.” 

She smelled sweet and salty, and Kurt couldn’t help but wonder if she might taste that way, too.

“You, luscious—”
Shit. How did I let that slip?
“Leanna, you don’t even know me.”
But for some strange reason, I want you to.

They rose at the same time and bumped chests. She grabbed his arm to keep from falling over. Her warm, sun-kissed skin felt so damn good against him that he didn’t back away. Couldn’t back away. His hands found her hips, the ridge of her bikini bottom barely noticeable beneath his palms. The way she looked up at him, eyes full of wonder—and surprise—caught him off guard.