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DOCKSIDE by Susan Wiggs
On Sale: July 24th
Paperback
416 pages
ISBN-10: 0778324753
ISBN-13: 9780778324751
Long, lazy days...hot summer nights.
With her daughter grown and flown, Nina Romano is ready to embark on a new adventure. She’s waited a long time for dating, travel and chasing dreams. But just as she’s beginning to enjoy being on her own, she finds herself falling for Greg Bellamy, owner of the charming Inn at Willow Lake and a single father with two kids of his own.
Greg lost his first marriage to a demanding career. Now he’s determined to make a new start before it’s too late. Juggling work, raising his young son and helping his nearly-grown daughter face life’s ultimate challenge, he has no time to fall in love. Still, with Nina Romano, love feels just right his time around.
From the award-winning author of SUMMER AT WILLOW LAKE comes an unforgettable story of a woman’s emotional journey from the heartache of the past to hope for the future.
"With the ease of a master, Wiggs introduces complicated, flesh-and-blood characters into her idyllic but identifiable smalltown setting, sets in motion a refreshingly honest romance, resolves old issues and even finds room for a little mystery. The result is as appealing as the heroine’s Polish Apple Strudel, the recipe for which is thankfully included."
-Publishers Weekly, starred review, THE WINTER LODGE
"Wiggs’s storytelling is heartwarming… [and] this book should appeal to romance and woman's readers of any age."
-Publishers Weekly, SUMMER AT WILLOW LAKE
"This story has it all; it's perfect summer reading. There is conflict, pain, laughter and joy and, of course, a happy ending. The story delves into the past as many of the present events and emotions grow from there."
-Rendezvous, SUMMER AT WILLOW LAKE
"Susan Wiggs paints the details of human relationships with the finesse of a master."
-Jodi Picoult
"Susan Wiggs tackles contemporary issues in the crucible of family with gutsy poignancy and adroit touches of whimsy that make for an irresistible read."
-BookPage
Susan Wiggs's life is all about family, friends...and fiction. She lives at the water's edge on an island in Puget Sound, and she really does commute to her writers' group with her friend Sheila in a 17-foot motorboat.
According to Publishers Weekly, Wiggs writes a "refreshingly honest romance," and the Salem Statesman Journal adds that she is "one of our best observers of stories of the heart [who] knows how to capture emotion on virtually every page of every book." Booklist characterizes her books as "real and true and unforgettable."
She is the proud recipient of three RITA (sm) awards and four starred reviews from Publishers Weekly for her books. Her novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have made national bestseller lists, including the USA Today and New York Times lists. She's been featured in the national media and is a popular teacher at writers' workshops and conferences worldwide.
The author is a former teacher, a Harvard graduate, an avid hiker, a boater out of necessity, an amateur photographer, a good skier and terrible golfer, yet her favorite form of exercise is curling up with a good book. Readers can write to her at P.O. Box 4469, Rollingbay, WA 98061 or visit her on the web at www.susanwiggs.com.
“I remember your smile the first time we met.” In every romance book
there are words spoken by the hero or heroine that are memorable and meant to
savor, scenes that sizzle and an escape to another time, place or fantasy. Greg
Bellamy’s words to Nina Romano supports a romance reader’s desire
to believe in love at first sight.
DOCKSIDE is the fourth book in The Lakeshore Chronicles by New York Times bestselling
author Susan Wiggs. It transports readers to a luxurious summer resort on Willow
Lake in the fictional town of Avalon in the Catskill Mountains. Summer homes and
bed-and-breakfast hideaways line the lakeshore. The pace of the book is as tranquil
as the lake at night when the moon shines bright and is reflected on the smooth
surface.
Life is full of surprises for Nina Romano. Her one-night fling with a West Point
“pagan god” results in pregnancy at age 15, she becomes Mayor of the
town, and her secret attraction for handsome Greg Bellamy, from a socially prominent
family, brings her even more surprises. Nina’s life becomes entangled with
Greg's when they both spend summers at Camp Kioga on the lake. Camp Kioga turns
into a place that holds many memories for both Nina and Greg, and The Inn at Willow
Lake plays a significant role in bringing them back together when they are adults
and both single.
Nina and Greg restore the inn to magnificent luxury-brochure splendor. In the
process, they re-discover feelings that have long been simmering since their teenage
summers at the lake. Despite a painful divorce, Greg is irresistibly drawn to
Nina and is compelled to pursue her with charm and a job she cannot resist. “He
offered her his heart in a smile.” Romance blossoms, and Nina succumbs to
the promise of ravishing kisses and a summer fling at the boathouse.
Nina thought that the chance was gone for her to find “the kind of love
that makes all the difference, the kind of sweep-you-off-your feet romance that
only comes during certain special times in a person’s life.” She has
been on her own, raising a daughter her whole life, and something more than a
fling is a little frightening. Greg has always been the object of Nina’s
fantasies --- and a summer love is so tempting.
Pregnancy is a major theme in DOCKSIDE. Nina becomes pregnant at 15, Greg is forced
to marry a girlfriend he broke up with because she returns to Willow Lake with
a baby daughter, and Greg’s now-teenage daughter is pregnant at 18. Surprisingly,
relationships are strengthened as a result.
DOCKSIDE sails through the characters' lives at significant moments, exploring
the many facets of love and relationships. What is it that makes couples come
alive? Romance, of course. When the sight of him/her makes you happy. When your
lover says, “Every day I wake up more in love with you than I was the day
before…”
--- Reviewed by Hillary Wagy
 Click here now to buy this book from Amazon.com.
Chapter One
After Shane Gilmore kissed her, Nina Romano kept her
eyes shut. All right, she thought, so he wasn’t the world’s
best kisser. Not every man was born a great kisser. Some had
to be trained. Surely, Shane Gilmore was trainable.
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. He certainly
looked like a good kisser, with nicely sculpted lips and a
strong jaw, broad shoulders and thick black hair. Maybe he
was just having an off day.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” he said. “Your
term in office couldn’t end soon enough for me.”
He didn’t mean it as a dig. Did he? The fact that her term
as mayor of Avalon, New York, had concluded in scandal
still stung; maybe she was just being paranoid. She decided
to laugh it off. “All right, now you sound like one of my political
enemies.”
“My reasons are romantic,” he insisted. “I was waiting
for the right time. It wouldn’t have looked right for us to be
together when you were mayor, not with me being president
of the only bank in town.”
You look like such a hunk, she thought. Don’t act like a
dork. And yes, she was being paranoid about the scandal,
which was odd, because given her background, Nina was no
stranger to scandal. As a young single mother, she’d held her
head up and gone to work for the town of Avalon, eventually
serving as deputy mayor. The salary was almost nonexistent,
and hadn’t improved much when Mayor McKittrick fell ill
and she became the de facto mayor, the youngest and lowest-
paid in the state, as far as she knew. She’d inherited a
city-finance nightmare. The town was on the verge of bankruptcy.
She’d cut spending, which included her own salary,
to the bone and eventually found the source of the leak—a
corrupt city administrator.
Enough, she thought. This was a new chapter of her life
in so many ways. She’d just returned from three weeks away.
She and Shane were on their first date, and quibbling with
a first date was a no-no. And aside from that kiss—awkward
and way too…slobbery—things were going all right. They
had shared a Sunday afternoon picnic at Blanchard Park, on
the shores of Willow Lake, the town’s best asset. Afterward
they had taken a leisurely stroll along the lakeshore, and that
was where Shane made his move. He’d stopped right in the
middle of the path, cast a furtive glance left and right and
then pressed his mouth in full lockdown mode upon hers.
Ew.
Snap out of it, Nina scolded herself. Thiswas supposed to
be a new beginning for her. While she was raising her
daughter, she’d never had the time or energy to date. Nowthat
she was making her belated entry into the world of dating,
she really shouldn’t ruin it by being hypercritical. She had
ruined more first dates by being hypercritical than…come
to think of it, she’d ruined all of them. First dates were the
only kind Nina Romano ever had, because there was never a
second. Except that one, years ago. The one that had resulted
in her getting pregnant at the age of fifteen. After that, she’d
concluded that second dates were bad luck.
Everything was different now. It was time—past time—
to see if a date could actually turn into something besides a
disaster. Nina’s daughter Sonnetwas grown; she had finished
high school early, at sixteen, and had been accepted atAmerican
University, neatly avoiding every youthful mistake Nina
had made.
Don’t, she thought, feeling herself starting to drown in
thoughts of Sonnet. In a moment of insane self-deception,
Nina had convinced herself that it would be easy to let go of
her daughter. To let go of the child who had been Nina’s
whole world until high school graduation a few weeks ago.
Trying to pull herself back into the moment with Shane,
she quickened her pace and felt a fiery sting along the length
of her leg. Too late, she saw that she had strayed too close
to a clump of thigh-high nettles.
Even when she gave a soft hiss of pain, he didn’t seem
to notice as he strode along beside her, filling her in on his
latest round of golf.
Golf, thought Nina, gritting her teeth against the stinging
sensation. Now, there was something she’d always wanted
to try. There were so many things she’d put off learning and
doing. Now that Sonnet was gone, it was Nina’s turn to take
her shot.
The thought put a spring in her step despite the nettles. It
was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon and people were out in
droves, like creatures awakened from hibernation. She loved
the sight of couples strolling along the lakeshore, families
picnicking in the park, catboats and canoes plying the clear
blue waters of the lake. Nina loved everything about her
hometown. It was the perfect place to launch the next phase
of her life.
Though not financially rewarding, serving as mayor had
brought her friends and allies who far outnumbered her enemies,
even after the finance scandal. These connections, and
Shane’s bank, were the key to her new endeavor. Now that
Sonnet was gone, Nina was about to resurrect a long-buried
dream.
“So you’ve been waiting for me to free myself of the
mayor’s office,” she remarked to Shane. “That’s good to
know. How are things at the bank?”
“Actually, there’ve been a few changes,” he said. “I was
going to talk to you about that later.”
She frowned at the way his gaze shifted as he spoke.
“What sort of changes?”
“We’ve got some new personnel who came on board
while you were away. And can we not talk about business?”
He touched her arm, sent her a meaningful look. “On the
path back there—” he gestured “—it felt like we really
clicked. I missed you. Three weeks is a long time.”
“Uh-huh.” She reminded herself to be fair, to give this date
a chance. “Three weeks isn’t that long, not to me. I’ve waited
for years to get going. This is it. My new life. I’m finally starting
a future I’ve dreamed about ever since I was a little girl.”
“Um, yeah. That’s great.” He seemed uneasy, and she
remembered that he didn’t want to talk about work, so she
dropped the subject.
“I’m glad I got to make the trip with Sonnet,” she told
him. “I can’t remember the last time we had an actual vacation.”
“I thought maybe you’d be seduced by big-city life and
never come back,” he said.
He didn’t know her at all, then. “My heart is here, Shane,”
she said. “It always has been. Here in this town where I grew
up, where my family is. I’d never leave Avalon.”
“So you got homesick on your trip?”
“No, because I knew I’d be coming back.” The day after
graduation, Nina and Sonnet had taken the train to Washington,
and they’d spent three glorious weeks together, seeing
the nation’s capital and the colonial monuments of
Virginia. Though Nina wouldn’t admit it, she was also reassuring
herself about Sonnet’s father, Laurence Jeffries,
and his family. Sonnet would be spending the summer with
him. Laurence was a high-ranking army officer, a military
attaché. He’d invited Sonnet to travel with him, his wife and
two daughters to Casteau, Belgium, where Laurence was assigned
to the Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe.
Having a father who worked at SHAPE was a wonderful
opportunity for Sonnet, who would be serving at NATO as
an intern. It was a chance for her to get to know Laurence
better, too. Laurence and his trophy family. He was a shining
star, an African-American graduate of West Point. His
wife was the granddaughter of a famous civil rights leader,
and his daughters were honor students at Sidwell Friends
School. Yet they genuinely wanted to make Sonnet feel welcome,
or so it seemed to Nina. At summer’s end, Sonnet
would matriculate at American University. Simple, thought
Nina. All kids left home, right?
The fact that Sonnet would be living with her father, step-
mother and stepsisters was simple, too. Blended families were
the norm in this day and age.
So why was it, every time she imagined Sonnet in that soperfect
Georgetown brick house or the quaint Belgian town
filled with SHAPE and NATO personnel, that Nina panicked?
She felt her daughter becoming a stranger, more distant with
each passing day. Stop it, she admonished herself again.
Letting her go was a good decision. It was what Sonnet
wanted. It was what Nina wanted, something she’d
been waiting for—freedom, independence. Still, saying
goodbye had been a leap of faith. Thank goodness, Nina
thought, she had something to come back to besides an
empty house. She had a new life, a new future planned, a
new adventure. Nothing could take the place of her daughter,
but Nina was determined to move forward. There were
things she’d given up, things she’d missed by becoming a
mother at such a young age. No, she reminded herself. Not
given up. Postponed.
Shane was talking again, and Nina realized she hadn’t
heard a word he’d said. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was telling you, I’m pumped about going kayaking.
I’ve never been.”
Pumped? Had he really said pumped? “The lake’s a good
place to start. The water’s pretty tame.”
“Even if it’s not,” he said, “I’m prepared. I bought some
gear, just for today.”
They arrived at the town dock and boathouse, busy with
people out enjoying the best weather of the year so far. She
saw couples and families strolling or splashing in the shallows.
Her gaze lingered on a couple sitting on a bench at the
water’s edge. They were facing each other, holding hands,
leaning forward in earnest conversation. They were ordinary
people—he had thinning hair, she had a thickening waistline—
yet Nina could sense their intimacy, even from a distance.
There was a certain posture people took on when they
loved and trusted each other. The sight of them made her feel
wistful; she was no expert on romantic love, having never
experienced it firsthand before. One day, though, she might
unveil that mystery for herself.
Glancing over at Shane, she thought, probably not today.
He mistook her glance. “So after we go kayaking,” he
said, “I thought we’d go to my place. I’ll fix you dinner.”
Please, she thought. Please stop trying so hard. She
smiled up at him. “Thanks, Shane.” Once again, she reminded
herself to loosen up. In a way, dating was like being
an explorer, setting off into unknown territory.
“Nina,” someone called. “Nina Romano!”
There, in the picnic area near the boat shed, was Bo
Crutcher, the star pitcher of the Avalon Hornets, a Can-Am
Baseball League team. As usual, the long, tall Texan was
drinking beer and hanging out with his buddies.
“Hey, darlin’,” he drawled. His accent flowed like sunwarmed
honey.
“I’m not your darling, Bo,” she said. “And isn’t there a
rule about drinking before a game?”
“Why, darlin’, I reckon there is. How’d you get so smart?”
“I was born that way,” she said.
“Seems like you knoweveryone in town,” Shane remarked.
“That was my favorite part of being mayor—meeting so
many people.”
Shane looked back over his shoulder at Bo. “I don’t know
why he hasn’t been fired from the team.”
“Because he’s good.” Nina knew Bo Crutcher had been
cut from other teams thanks to his party-animal ways. The
Can-Am League was pretty much his last chance. “When
you’re good at something, people tend to overlook a lot of
other flaws. For a while, anyway. Eventually, though, they
catch up with you.”
The sound of boyish laughter carried across the water,
catching Nina’s attention. She immediately recognized Greg
Bellamy and his son, Max, launching a canoe.
Every unattached woman in town recognized Greg
Bellamy, the ultimate in recently divorced guys. He was
ridiculously handsome in a white-teeth, sparkling-eyes,
broad-shouldered, six-feet-something way. For a long
time, Nina had had a secret crush on him. He wasn’t for
her, though. He came with too much baggage in the form
of two kids. Nina knew and liked Max and Daisy, but she
kept her distance. She had finally reached a place in her
life where she could just be by herself. Taking on another
woman’s children was not in her plans.
Besides, Greg wasn’t interested. When he first moved to
town last winter, she’d invited him to coffee but he turned
her down. Nina reminded herself of this when someone else
joined Greg and Max—a woman in breezy white capri pants
and a lime-green sweater. She appeared to be about eight feet
tall and very blond. Although she wasn’t close enough to see,
Nina knew she was attractive. That was the only type Greg
Bellamy seemed to favor. Italian-American women under
five foot two, known for their fiery tempers, cropped hair and
lack of fashion sense, didn’t appear to interest him.
Resolutely pulling her attention from Greg Bellamy, Nina
led the way to the boat shed where she kept her kayak. She’d
had the kayak for years because she loved being on the
water. Willow Lake—the Jewel of Avalon, as it was known
in chamber of commerce brochures—was ten miles long,
fed by the Schuyler River and bordered by the wooded rise
of the Catskills. One end of the lake faced the town of
Avalon and was fringed by the popular city park, which
Nina had been instrumental in funding when she was in office.
Farther along the lakeshore were summer homes and
the occasional bed-and-breakfast hideaway. Privately owned
property on the lakeshore was exceedingly rare, since the
land was now part of the Catskills Forest Preserve. The few
places that had been built before the preserve stood like storybook
settings from another time. In the shape of a long,
curved finger, crooked as though beckoning, the lake
stretched deep into a pristine wilderness. At its northernmost
reaches nestled a place called Camp Kioga. The property
had been in the Bellamy family for generations. Of
course it had. Sometimes, it seemed to Nina, the Bellamys
owned half the county. The camp had recently reopened as
a family resort. At summer’s end, it would be the setting for
a much-anticipated wedding.
As she and Shane brought the kayak from its berth in the
boat shed, she felt a surge of nostalgia. She had bought the
two-man kayak years ago at the annual Rotary auction. It
was perfect for her and Sonnet. Remembering those rare
summer days when she stole time from work to go paddling
on the lake with her daughter created a pang of longing so
unexpected that Nina caught her breath.
“Something the matter?” Shane asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just excited about getting out on the
water again.”
He went to his car to get his gear. While Nina launched the
kayak at the dock, she tracked the progress of Greg Bellamy’s
canoe. He and his boy, Max, paddled in tandem
while the blonde sat like a Nordic princess in the middle.
Wasn’t she bored? What fun was it to just sit there, keeping
every hair in place, white pants unwrinkled?
Nina wondered who the woman was. Thanks to the upcoming
Bellamy family wedding, there had been lots of visitors
to town and to Camp Kioga—event planners, florists,
caterers, decorators. The bride-to-bewas Greg’s niece, Olivia.
Perhaps the Nordic princess was going to be his wedding
date.
Since she came from a huge family, Nina was no stranger
to weddings. But of course, she’d never been a bride. Maybe
now that she was truly on her own, she would get married.
Turning away from the scene on the lake, she glanced at
Shane Gilmore, returning from the parking lot. Then again,
she thought, maybe not.
He had geared up for kayaking in a crash helmet and float
coat, a protective spray skirt that circled his waist like a
floppy tutu, a VHF radio and amphibious shoes.
“Well, look at you,” she said. Fortunately, serving as
mayor had taught her to be diplomatic.
“Thanks,” he said, preening in his gear. “I got everything
at the preseason sale at the Sport Haus.”
“Lucky you,” murmured Nina. “You probably won’t need
the helmet and skirt today. Those are usually only needed
for extreme whitewater kayaking.”
He disregarded her advice and eased into his seat while
she held the boat steady. “Ready?” he said, banging the
fiberglass hull against the dock as he settled in.
“Not quite,” she said, and picked up the paddles. “We don’t
want to be without these.”
“Dang,” he said, “I feel like this is going to tip over any
second.”
“It won’t,” she said. “I had Sonnet in this when she was
five years old. In good weather, there’s no safer way to be
on the water.”
He clutched at the side of the dock as Nina got in. She
told herself not to be so critical of this guy. He was the bank
president. He was educated and good-looking. He said
things like, “Do you know how long I’ve waited to ask you
out?”
She showed him how the rudder worked and demonstrated
a simple paddling technique. So what if he was a
dork? So what if he was wearing a crash helmet and spray
skirt? There was something to be said for exercising caution.
Besides, she could tell he was enjoying their outing. Once
they paddled away from shore and glided across the smooth
surface of Willow Lake, he relaxed visibly. This was the
magic and beauty of being on the water, Nina reflected. This
is why the lakes of upstate New York were so legendary, having
been sought after by harried city dwellers ever since
there was a city. The water was dotted with catboats with sails
like angels’ wings, other kayaks, canoes and rowboats of all
sorts. The weeping hills, veiled by springs and waterfalls,
were reflected in the glassy surface of the lake. Paddling
across the sun-dappled lake was like being in an Impressionist
painting, part of a peaceful and colorful tableau.
“Let’s go over here,” she suggested, indicating with her
paddle. “I want to take a look at the Inn at Willow Lake—
my new project.”
A beat of hesitation pulsed between them. “It’s kind of
far,” he said. “Clear across the lake.”
“We can be there in just a few minutes.” She tried not to
feel annoyed by his hesitation. The Inn at Willow Lake was
going to be her life. As bank president, Shane was one of
the few people who was privy to that dream. The inn had
gone into foreclosure and the bank now held the title. Thanks
to Mr. Bailey, the asset manager, Nina had been given the
management contract for the place. She would oversee its
reopening and operation. If she did a good job, if things went
as planned, she’d qualify for a small business loan and buy
the place for herself. That was what she wanted. It was
something she dreamed of doing all her life.
Without meaning to, she went faster, her rhythm out of
sync with Shane’s so that their paddles clashed. “Sorry,” she
said. But she wasn’t really. She was in a hurry.
As she paddled toward the historic property with its long
dock projecting out into the lake, her heart lifted. This was
the only hotel on the lake, thanks to deed restrictions that had
been enacted after it was built. The property consisted of a
collection of vintage residences around a magnificent main
building, which lay upon the emerald slope like another
place in time. The Stick and Italianate architecture was a superb
example of the irrational exuberance of the Gilded Age.
There was a wraparound veranda and gables along the upper
story. There was an incredible belvedere rising like a
wedding cake, its turret crowned by an ornate dome. The
mullioned windows offered a matchless view of Willow
Lake. From her perspective on the water, Nina could imagine
the place in the old resort days, when the grounds were
dotted by guests sunning themselves or playing croquet, and
lovers walked hand-in-hand along the shady paths. There
was a part of Nina that was a shameless romantic, and the
inn fed that fantasy; it always had. Her favorite building
was the boathouse, built in the classic style of the lakes of
upstate NewYork with covered boat slips at water level, and
living quarters above. It was made of the same whimsy and
luxury as the main building of the inn.
In accordance with her agreement with the bank, the
upper level of the boathouse was to be her private residence,
and she had plans to move within the week. The boathouse
had originally served as a lavish playroom for the children
of the original owner, with quarters for the nanny. Lately,
however, it had been used for storage.
Ever since she was a little girl, she’d pictured herself here,
warmly welcoming guests from the world over as they gathered
for lemonade and croquet on the lawn in the summer or
for hot chocolate and cozy reading by the library fireplace in
winter. She had always known exactly how each room would
look, what low-key music would be playing in the dining
room, what the baking muffins would smell like in the morning.
Her plans had been derailed by a teenage pregnancy and
the responsibility of raising a child alone. No, she thought.
Not derailed. Delayed. Now an opportunity had opened up
and Nina was determined to seize it. She was ready for
something new in her life. With Sonnet gone, she needed it.
To some people, being an innkeeper might not have
sounded like much. To Nina, it was the start of a long-held
dream. As they glided close to the dock, she felt a warm thrill
of excitement, not unlike the sort of thrill she was supposed
to feel for her date.
“So there it is,” she said. “I can’t wait to get started.”
He was quiet. She wondered if he was checking her out
and twisted around in her seat. “Shane?”
“Yeah, about that,” he said, jerking his helmeted head in
the direction of the inn. “There’ve been some interesting developments
at the bank.”
Nina frowned. “‘Interesting’ sounds a bit ominous.”
“While you were away, Bailey retired and moved to
Florida.”
She relaxed. “I know. I sent him a card.”
“And we brought in a new asset manager from the main
branch, a woman named Brooke Harlow. She made some
changes in her department. She had orders from the home office
to improve her bottom line.”
Nina’s heart faltered. “She’s still going to honor my contract,
right?”
“Rest assured, that contract is considered a valuable part
of the package. You have a fantastic reputation. No question
you’re the best general manager for the job.”
“Why doesn’t this sound so good to me, Shane?” she asked.
“Well, actually, it could be very good. The Inn at Willow
Lake has been sold, and your contract with it.”
She turned again and scowled at him. “Not funny.”
“I’m not telling you to be funny. It’s just something that
happened.”
“It can’t happen.” Yet the churning of her stomach told
her that indeed, it could. “I expected the bank to give me the
option to buy the place as soon as I’m able to qualify for a
loan.”
“I’m sure you knew it was a possibility that the bank
would divest itself of the property if a buyer came along.”
“But Mr. Bailey said—”
“I’m sorry, Nina. That’s what happened.”
She’d been aware of the risk. She’d known it when she
signed her contract, but Mr. Bailey had told her the possibility
was highly unlikely. As soon as Nina qualified for a
small-business loan, she would be in a position to buy the
place.
The Inn at Willow Lake. Sold.
For a few moments, she couldn’t get her mind around
the reality. It just seemed like such a foreign concept. Of
course the inn would be sold one day—to her. That had always
been the plan.
“Anyway,” Shane went on, ignoring the fact that every
word that came out of his mouth was another hammer
blow, “it belongs to someone else now.You won’t believe
who the buyer is.”
Nina Romano felt something snap inside her. This clueless
man, this spray-skirt-wearing lousy kisser, was sitting
there informing her that her entire future, the one thing she
had counted on to fill her life now that Sonnet was gone, had
been taken away. It was too much.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asked.
Not the smartest question to ask an Italian-American
woman with steam coming out of her ears.
Nina’s body was not her own. As though possessed by
demons, she reared up in the kayak and went for his throat.
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