Vibrant Heart: Book 1 in the Great Plains Romance Series (9 page)

Energized by her writing and its new direction, she rarely left her computer. She tried to follow a more or less normal sleeping schedule, but she often woke in the middle of the night with an idea that she convinced herself she had to write up at that very moment. Eating occurred only when her stomach’s growling got too loud, and more often than not she ordered delivery food rather than taking the time to cook. Her only focus was on getting the draft of the romantic comedy done. An insistent power was driving her to finish, get the ideas out of her head before they disappeared forever.

With only two chapters left to write, an idea for a third novel burst into her thoughts. She scribbled down notes, then ordered Chinese delivery, racing to see how much of the final two chapters she could write before the food arrived. Just as she typed the first paragraph of the last chapter, the doorbell rang. She jumped up and did a little dance through her living room. She was nearly done, and that familiar ecstatic feeling was begging to be released. She threw open her door, singing, “Hello, Mr. Chinese delivery man!”

Except it wasn’t the Chinese food at the door.

“Hey, darlin’.”

Chapter Eighteen

Melanie felt all her energy dissipate. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled, waiting. He nodded toward her apartment.

“Please, come in.” She said it with as much boredom as she could muster.

He meandered silently about the living room while Melanie watched him. He glanced at the coffee table full of pizza boxes and empty cans of soda, then looked up at her, his eyebrows rising in a question.

“What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“It’s been radio silence for more than a month.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and frowned.

“Look,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, but your dad asked me to check in on you.” He huffed loudly. “And then when I stalled, my mom told me to get over here pronto. She’s a nice woman, but you don’t say no to her.”

Melanie remained silent, watching him from hooded eyes. He took a few steps toward her desk, glancing at the papers spread out on it.

“New book?”

She ignored his question. “So you expect me to believe that you came all the way from Nebraska just to check up on me?”

Jake looked at her and blinked. “No.”

“Right, so why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t expect you to believe that I came all the way from Nebraska because I didn’t.”

Melanie waited for him to explain.

Jake shuffled his feet, glancing up at her. “Melanie, I live in Chicago.”

She stared at him for a moment, not moving. Finally, she said, “Bullshit.”

“Now why would I lie about something like that?”

Melanie shook her head. “You were driving a Nebraska truck. I saw the license plates.”

“Ah, you caught me.” He smiled and shrugged. “Small towns are more amenable to listening to my proposals if I arrive in a local truck.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Technically, the truck is registered in my mom’s name.”

She loosened her arms a bit. “What do you do?”

“Property manager.” He glanced down at her desk again, picking up a sheet of typed paper. “We build hotels, get them established, then turn them over to local management.”

He seemed distracted as he spoke, and Melanie realized that he was reading the page. She snatched it from him.

“Hotels? Wait—you built that new hotel in Bender?”

He frowned. “Yeah. Managed it for a while too. How else could I have gotten a key to your room?”

“You remember that?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

His frown deepened, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I’ll never forget that night. Trust me—I’ve tried.”

And there it was. He wanted to forget it, forget her. She bit down on her bottom lip, trying to stop the tears that she knew were coming. “You need to leave.” She turned her back to him. When he didn’t respond, she reached out to the door and opened it. “Please. I can’t be responsible for you falling off the wagon again.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

She jumped at how close he was behind her.

“You know what I mean. Just go.”

He walked around to stand in front of her, pushing the door closed. “Melanie, I did not fall off the wagon.” He enunciated each word.

Why was he doing this to her? “You said you had been drinking that night.”

“Yeah, I had a couple of beers in the hotel bar. I was trying to figure out whether I should kill Raymond or not for what he did to you.”

“Right, a couple of beers.”

“So?”

“So! And then you missed your morning meeting with my father.”

Jake’s eyes darted back and forth for a moment, then he looked at her and burst out laughing. “Melanie, I’m not in AA.”

She shook her head, confused.

“That was a meeting with the locals about turning over management of the hotel. I was only in town for the weekend, so we scheduled it for Sunday morning before church.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “But you missed it.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t want to leave you.”

“But you did.” This time she stepped away from him, putting more distance between them.

He murmured something under his breath and rolled his eyes. “Only because Trish’s idiot boyfriend was there. I didn’t want to wake you up, so I went to the lobby to call and postpone the meeting, except when I got there, one of our waitresses, Trish, and her boyfriend—you may remember him, he’s the one who cold-cocked me twice at lunch—were having a heck of an argument. I asked him to calm down, and he said he would, but I didn’t believe him.”

“For good reason, it seems.”

“Right? So I went back to the room to leave you a note, then went and sat in the restaurant at the table next to his so I could monitor the situation.” He rolled his eyes. “Worst three hours of my life, especially since all I wanted to do was be with you.”

Melanie’s heart fluttered at those words, but she forced herself to remain calm. “Wait a minute. You’re not sleeping with your waitress?”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t sleep with the help. Not like—”

“Not like me,” she finished for him, wincing.

Jake ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, look, I checked on you like they asked me to. Call your dad. Let him know you’re still alive.”

He was halfway out the door when she stopped him.

“You didn’t beat Raymond up?”

He turned back to sneer at her, then adopted a more neutral expression as he spoke tightly. “No, your precious Raymond is unharmed.”

Melanie swallowed past the lump in her throat and took a step closer. “And you didn’t fall off the wagon because of me?”

Jake shook his head.

“And you didn’t want to abandon me that morning?”

Jake stared at Melanie for several beats. “Is that what you thought of me?” He laughed until he was nearly doubled over. “Sweet Jesus, no wonder you ran away so quickly.”

His laughter was infectious, and soon Melanie was giggling at the absurdity of it all. She really had messed up everything, just not in the way she thought she had.

As her laughter died down, she said, “And you live in Chicago.”

“Yes, darlin’, I do.” He stopped laughing and looked at her with pure desire—a look she matched. “So did I really make you woozy?”

Melanie blinked several times, trying to grasp what he was talking about.

He held up the typed page he still carried, reading from it. “Seeing him step out of the truck, I finally understood what it meant to feel woozy—and it was a feeling I never wanted to forget.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Woozy, eh?”

“Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Very, very woozy.”

Jake stepped toward the door, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “How much do you have left on your novel?”

“What?” Melanie’s body was screaming about being denied the pleasure that was within reach.

He pointed at the desk. “Looking at that stack of papers, it looks like you’re almost done.”

“One chapter left.” Her brain struggled to shift gears. “Tying everything together.”

He looked at her, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the passion burning in his eyes. A familiar warmth traveled the length of her body.

“You’ve got one hour. Get everything done by then.”

Melanie tilted her head to one side, her confusion obvious. Jake grabbed her in his arms and kissed her so deeply that her knees went weak and she sank into him. In that moment, all the desire she’d tried to ignore for the last several weeks came roaring back to life and it was ravenous. She wanted him—she’d always wanted him, and she’d do anything to have him, over and over again.

Just as quickly he pulled back and whispered to her in a husky voice. “When I get back, you’re all mine, Melanie Olson.”

He turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving Melanie clutching at the sofa for support.

Chapter Nineteen

Melanie held her first book release party the following spring in a small independent bookstore in a suburb of Chicago. Mostly older women attended the event, which started with Melanie reading a section from her novel. Afterward, she signed copies for her guests, thrilled by the steady stream of fans that left her hand tired and cramping.

“Nice work, Mrs. Published Author,” Jake said, sneaking a quick kiss on her cheek before sitting down next to her.

An older woman wearing a large pink hat stood next in line for an autograph. Jake winked at her, and she giggled coyly. “My, you’re quite the rapscallion, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.” He leaned across the table. “I’m the inspiration for all the rapscallions in the book.”

“Oh I’m sure you are, sir.” She giggled again and handed her book to Melanie. “Now this is for my sister, Clara. She will think your story’s a hoot!”

“Thank you,” Melanie said.

“Just you wait until the next book comes out.” Jake pretended to be sharing an insider secret with her.

“Oh, I hope it’s soon.”

“It’s already printing as we speak.” Jake stood and walked around the table. He towered over the woman but bent down to continue their intrigue. “I tell you what. You give me your address, and I’ll make sure you get one of the first copies of the second book—before it even hits the stores.”

The woman’s eyes grew large with excitement, and she looked at Melanie for confirmation.

“He’s a man of his word, ma’am.” She handed the signed book back the woman, then smiled at Jake as he escorted her to the counter, where he took down her address while she told him how jealous Clara would be when she heard about this. Melanie shook her head, laughing at her husband, the flirt.

The bell at the door to the store jingled and Raymond walked in. Jake was still deep in conversation with the older woman, who was talking about her sister.

“Hey, Mel. See you finally published something.”

“Yes, I did. Did you want me to sign your copy?”

“Oh, you know.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I left my copy at home. I’m living here now, in Chicago.”

Melanie forced a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, a couple of months now. Anna left me.”

He paused to glance at Jake. Melanie remained silent.

“So, uh, maybe I can stop by and see you sometime, get my book signed.”

“Sure, sure, let me just check with Jake about when our schedule is free. Jake?”

“Oh, you know? Why don’t I just buy another copy while I’m here, save us all the trouble?”

Melanie shrugged. “Your choice.”

Raymond headed to the checkout, nodding to Jake as he passed. When he returned, Melanie wrote “Thank you” in the book and signed her name. They shared a few more polite words, then Raymond left.

“Should I be jealous?” Jake said as he watched Raymond leave the store.

Melanie stood and planted a kiss on his lips. “Absolutely not.” She smiled. “In fact, you should thank him.”

“Thank him?” Jake nearly choked on the words.

“Of course. If not for him, I wouldn’t have returned for the wedding, and then I wouldn’t be all yours.” She raised one eyebrow and smiled at him in a way that she knew he couldn’t refuse.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest. “Darlin’, you drive me crazy.” He leaned forward to kiss her. “And I love you for it.”

He jumped up to run out of the store after Raymond, but paused at the door, then sauntered back to Melanie. “I’ll thank him later. For now, I want to hear more about how you’re all mine.”

Acknowledgments

Deciding to write a book is easy. Seeing it through to the very end is the real challenge. I have been lucky to have the support of so many people during this endeavor.

I must thank my fabulous writing group. Although spread out across the country, we hold each other accountable every single day (Jules Dixon!), pushing ourselves to write ever better. I love that we demand the best while remaining supportive and encouraging. I also want to thank Lisa Kovanda, Victorine E. Lieske, and G. M. Barlean for being such exceptional role models in independent publishing.

I am eternally grateful to my beta readers, who dissected each draft of this story while asking for more. There is nothing more encouraging for an author than when the fans ask for the next book.

Finally, my deepest thanks go to my brother, Brandon, who has continued to support me in all my writing efforts in unexpected and inspiring ways.

Sneak Peek: A Heart's Promise

Here’s a sneak peek from the second book in the Great Plains Romance series

Trish reached up and pulled her strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder to braid it, her fingers quickly working through the long tresses. It was a habit she’d picked up since her parents’ death. Sitting in the hospital after the accident, waiting for news about her parents, she’d braided and unbraided her hair hundreds of times. Now it helped her think, her brain working through the problem as her fingers worked through her hair.

She didn’t want to leave Bender, but with no job and no place to stay, she didn’t think she had much of a choice. If only she had found work on a farm, she wouldn’t be having this problem now. Unfortunately not many farmers were willing to hire female managers, not even the corporations that were snatching up the farms at an alarming rate. Trish had spent the small savings her parents had left her for her degree in agri-business—a sound investment everyone had said at the time considering her goal of managing and eventually owning her own ranch—but now here she was, about to lose her waitressing job. The few hundred dollars left in her bank account would not sustain her through the end of the month. Her fingers reached the end of the braid, paused, then pulled it all out. She combed through her hair and started braiding once again.