She shook away the self-serving thoughts. Sam was a wonderful man and she really did enjoy spending time with him. She loved having his arms around her. Even if their relationship couldn’t last, maybe she could just enjoy this romantic encounter for what it was—a lovely summer romance.

  She smiled at him. “You’re right.”

  He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “My two favorite words.”

  She had only seven weeks until she had to return to prepare her classroom for the school year ahead. She’d enjoy these wonderful feelings while they lasted and push back any fear of repeating her parents’ mistakes—because she would never allow things to go that far.

  Thirty-Two

  Give your heroine opportunities to understand and face her inner fears.

  —Romance Writing 101

  The first thing Sadie did after Sam left for work the next day was move those infernal trees separating the deck. With the barrier gone, she dragged the table to the center and arranged the Adirondack chairs together.

  “There,” she said to Rio, who was currently barking at the waving sea oats. “Isn’t that much better?”

  Sadie spent the day writing. The block had apparently disappeared in the wake of her revelations. Her feelings seemed to inspire all sorts of ideas—and reality played out on a page or three.

  She had to write like the wind to get those first hundred pages done before the deadline—only three days away now. She was so glad she’d included a buffer.

  She was in the middle of a scene, the dialogue flowing like an open faucet, when a call came in. She checked her screen. Mom. Sadie was tempted to ignore the call, but her mother rarely called during the middle of the day. Something could be wrong.

  She pushed back from her laptop. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “Hi, honey.” Her voice quivered. “I could be better, to tell you the truth. I hate to tell you this while you’re at the beach, but your dad and I are taking a break. Things came to a head late last night and he left.”

  Sadie’s heart sank, the unwelcome feeling all too familiar. “Oh, Mom. I’m sorry.” She quelled the jaded side of her that wanted to ask her mother what she’d expected. This outcome was as predictable as the earth’s orbit around the sun.

  “I’m not going to drag you into our problems, but I knew you’d want to know. He’s staying at Ernie’s apartment.” Her dad’s divorced friend always seemed to have a spare bed for him.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. As will your dad. I’m sure we’ll work it out. We always do.” She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m tired of feeling sad. Let’s talk about you, sweetheart. How’s your writing going? Are you finished with your book yet?”

  Her mom always seemed to think books materialized from thin air. “It’s going well. I’m closing in on the first hundred pages. I’ll be sending them to Erin later this week.”

  “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to read it, honey. How’s Caroline? Have you heard from her recently?”

  “Just quick texts. She’s had a busy couple of weeks with her dog-walking business, plus her mom just had surgery on her shoulder so she’s helping her out.”

  “That’s very kind of her. And how are things with that handsome neighbor of yours?”

  Sadie had texted with her mom yesterday as they were returning to the island. “They’re going well, but we’re not really serious.”

  “Oh, why not? You deserve to find someone special, and I can tell by the sound of your voice that you like him.”

  “I do like him . . .” More than liked him. Her pulse fluttered at the very thought of him.

  “But . . .”

  Sadie huffed. “But he lives five states away, Mom. What kind of future could we possibly have?”

  “Take your time and try not to think so far ahead. Your address is just a matter of geography.”

  Just a matter of geography? Never mind that it had contributed to a lifetime of conflict between her parents. Never mind that it had left Sadie insecure and uncertain about her family the whole time she was growing up.

  She shook her head. “How can you say that, Mom, when it’s caused so much division between you and Dad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You left the city for him and you came to regret it. You’ve resented it all these years—resented him for taking you away.”

  “Honey . . . that’s not at all what happened. I don’t resent your father for—What on earth made you think that?”

  “You talk all the time about when you lived in New York, and you speak about it in such a wistful tone. You’ve made no secret of your dislike for Scranton. You made New York sound so glamorous. So amazing. And you gave it all up to marry Daddy.”

  Her mom laughed. “Oh, honey, I was in my early twenties when I lived in New York. Of course it felt glamorous—all that energy and excitement. I was young and on my own for the first time. But you’ve lived in the city long enough to know it’s not all rainbows and sprinkles. The traffic, the smog, the crowded subways, the cost of living. I hardly had two pennies to scrape together. I never regretted leaving the city, not really.”

  “Then why? Why are you and Dad always fighting? Why are you always splitting up and getting back together and doing it all over again?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that a thousand times? Sweetheart, I think we just have one of those relationships with a lot of ups and downs. The ups are so, so good.”

  “I know, Mom, but who can stand that kind of roller coaster? Growing up I hated it.” She winced at her harsh words, but it was how she felt.

  “Sadie . . . I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. We tried to keep our problems from you. But we see things so differently, your dad and me. We tried not to fight in front of you.”

  For the most part they had, but the vent in their bedroom carried their words straight into Sadie’s room. She used to block them out by putting a pillow over her head. “I’ve heard you argue about money. Is that what pulls you apart?”

  Her mom laughed. “The only time we argue about money is when your dad makes me mad, and I retaliate by blowing money on something we don’t need. It’s not really about the money for me. I get angry and lash out where it hurts him most—right in the wallet. Not my finest quality, I’ll admit.”

  How sad. Sadie shook her head again. “Mom, have you guys thought about counseling? Maybe you and Dad could work out some of your issues and head off these major disputes.”

  “Of course we’ve thought about it. I guess I’ve been reluctant to tackle our problems. I think part of me gets a rush out of our ups and downs. And we’ve gone on this way for so long . . .”

  “It’s never too late to work out your problems.”

  “These arguments used to . . . energize me somehow. I’m embarrassed to say it. But I’ll admit it’s getting old. Maybe I’m getting old, but I don’t think I have the strength to live this way anymore.”

  “Think about finding someone to talk to, Mom, okay? You and Dad deserve to be happy.”

  She and her mom talked a bit longer, then said their goodbyes.

  Sadie leaned back against the chair, her heart heavy at the thought of her parents’ relationship. She prayed they’d seek counseling this time and set a different course for the future.

  Thirty-Three

  Each barrier your heroine overcomes should bring her closer to her ultimate goal.

  —Romance Writing 101

  Sam had missed the call.

  He’d been mulching a bed of primrose and pink verbena. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, making beads of sweat pop out on his arms. The clouds overhead promised rain, and he could only cheer them on. He could continue working in the drizzle. But the weather radar promised an afternoon storm, and he had another yard he hoped to finish before he returned home.

  Home.

  Funny how the island rental had claimed that honorary title. But it wasn’t the house, really—it was Sadie. Things had been great since their return from Florida four days ago. They’d eaten together each night. He brought home takeout or she cooked. One night he’d taken her to PJ’s for their wonderful crab cakes.

  They’d spent hours on the deck talking and laughing. He was delighted that she’d removed the barrier dividing the deck and finally admitted he’d been the one to put it there. They’d shared a good laugh.

  Aware of his dopey grin, he spread out the last heap of mulch, then gathered his tools and headed back to his truck. After loading up he turned the key and welcomed the cool blast of air. He checked his phone. He had a voice mail. He tapped Play.

  “Hi, you don’t know me, but my name is Michael Davis. I got your number from Aaron Carpenter. Could you call me back as soon as possible, please? It’s about the book you found.”

  Sam leaned forward, his pulse kicking into gear as he hit Redial. This was the call he and Sadie had been waiting for. He tapped a tattoo on the steering wheel as the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Michael?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “This is Sam Ford. I just got your message.”

  “Thank God. I’m so glad you called back. I rented Aaron’s apartment before he did, and I accidentally left a book behind. He said you’d stopped by looking for me.”

  “Yes, my friend and I did. We have the book.”

  “And the ring?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s in a safe place.”

  “Oh, thank God.” The man’s breath rushed out. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear it. I was so afraid I’d lost it for good. I had to move out in a hurry, and I totally forgot about putting the book in that desk.”

  How could a man forget an engagement ring he must’ve spent a fortune on? “Well, no worries. We’ll be happy to return it to you. My friend and I have been on that book’s trail for weeks. I hope it didn’t spoil your proposal.”

  “Oh no, it’s not my ring.” He chuckled. “I’m not even dating anyone. A friend of my dad’s hired me to make the secret compartment in the book—I guess you could say I’m a bit of an artisan-slash-woodworker. I have the tools and skills required for the job anyway. When I finished the project, the guy asked me to keep it at my place until the big day—which is in two days. What with my move and change of jobs, I’d completely forgotten about the book until he called me this morning. I had to tell him what had happened. He’s going to be so relieved to get that ring back. Could I swing by and pick it up now?”

  Sam thought fast. He didn’t want to deprive Sadie of this moment—she’d been so excited to return the ring to the owner. “Actually, if you’d give me the man’s number, my friend and I would like to return it ourselves. We can do it right now.” Sadie would make time for this—even in the middle of her deadline crunch.

  “Sure, that would be great. I’m just so glad the ring wasn’t lost or stolen. Let me find his number in my phone.”

  Sam waited while Michael searched for the number. He could hardly wait to see the look on Sadie’s face when she heard he’d located the ring’s rightful owner.

  “Here it is.” Michael rattled off the number while Sam scrawled it on a scrap receipt. He’d just printed the last digit when realization struck. “Wait. Are you sure that’s the right number?” He repeated it back to Michael.

  “Yes, that’s right. Is something wrong?”

  Sam stared at the number, shaking his head. It couldn’t be . . .

  Then the dots connected. Oh, but it was. Sam’s breath released in a puff. “No, nothing’s wrong at all.” He was grinning to himself as he said, “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure he gets the ring back.”

  * * *

  Sadie typed the last words of the chapter and leaped from her deck chair. “I did it! Rio, I got the pages done!” Her squeal rivaled the piercing cries of the seagulls overhead.

  Now she just had to print it off. Tomorrow she’d read through it, giving it a quick edit, then send it off to Erin by the end of the day. It didn’t have to be perfect—it was just a first draft.

  But the best part of it all was . . . it was good. She loved this story and was invested in the characters—how could she not be? Her laughter carried on the breeze.

  She leaned over her laptop, found Sam’s printer on the network, and clicked Print. It would take a few minutes to produce all those pages.

  She pocketed her phone, its happy music keeping her company while she went inside and refreshed her water and Rio’s. She should probably go next door and make sure there was enough paper in the printer. Enough ink.

  She couldn’t believe she’d made it this far. The first third of the book was always the hardest for her. But she honestly believed she was pulling off a romance novel. Who would’ve thought?

  She left Rio lapping up her water and went next door. Sam’s door slid open easily. He never bothered locking it and had insisted she help herself to the printer as needed. Fortunately, the machine had plenty of paper and ink, especially since she would’ve had to make a trip to the store otherwise.

  As the pages filled with her words spit out onto the tray, gooseflesh rose on her arms. She was so proud of herself for tackling this challenge. She was this close to paying back that advance and getting out of debt.

  The rhythmic intro of “I Gotta Feeling” began, measuring out time beat by beat. Smiling at the sound of the celebratory song, she jacked it up. When the first verse began, she couldn’t help but sing along.

  Thirty-Four

  Readers enjoy the anticipation of discovery as each of your plot threads plays out, so make sure the payoff is worthwhile.

  —Romance Writing 101

  When Sam arrived at the duplex, he went around the side to the deck where Sadie always worked. But when he got there she wasn’t at the table. He knocked on her sliding door.

  Rio came running, barking a welcome he heard through the glass and wagging her whole backside.

  He slid open the door, stepped inside, and picked up the dog. “Sadie? Where’s your mommy, huh?” He called her name again, but she didn’t answer. Her car was in the drive, so she must’ve gone for a jog on the beach, though he couldn’t imagine her doing so in this heat and humidity.

  He could use a shower anyway. He set Rio down and slipped out the door. He heard music as he neared his apartment. Frowning, he slipped inside. But the sight that met his eyes stopped him in his tracks.

  Sadie danced in his dining room to an upbeat tune blaring from the phone in her pocket. She gave a little shimmy and continued the verse of “I Gotta Feeling.”

  He watched as she grabbed a wheeled chair and took it for a turn around the table, conga-line style.

  His lips twitched.

  Right leg. Left leg. She snapped her head to the side with each little kick, doing it up real good. When she’d made a complete turn around the table, she chugged down the hall toward the foyer. Hit the floor plant in her path. “I’m so sorry!”

  A laugh bubbled up. He covered his mouth.

  But even as his amusement mounted, something equally pleasant but more serious swelled inside him. Sadie was wonderful. She delighted him like no one else. She was spontaneous and spirited. Kind and giving. Over the weekend his entire family had fallen in love with her. How could they help it?

  She made a U-turn at the front door. His heart softened as he watched her. Had he fallen for her too? If the feelings welling up inside were any indication, he was well on his way to love.

  Sadie headed back toward the living room, still in fine conga form, singing at the top of her lungs. “Aaaaah!” Her hand flew to her chest. The chair skated toward him. “Sam! Oh my gosh—you scared me to death! What are you doing home so early?” She silenced the music. Cut him a sheepish look. “And, uh, how long have you been standing there exactly?”

  He chuckled. “Long enough.” He strode toward her, pushing the chair from his path. “May I cut in?”

  She gave a mock scowl. “Very funny.”

  When he reached her he wrapped his arms around her and gazed into her beautiful eyes, those feelings still surging through his veins like a drug. She was breathless from her passionate promenade around his house. The memory of it made him smile.

  “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Because you’re very cute.” He kissed her nose. “I take it by the, ah, celebration that you got your hundred pages done.”

  A sweet blush filled her cheeks. “I was just printing them off.”

  Only now did he notice the machine’s sounds. “And dancing around my house like a maniac.”

  She pointed at him. “A cute maniac.”

  “A very cute maniac.”

  She palmed his face and pressed her lips to his. “What are you doing home so early? Not that I’m complaining.”

  Oh, that. He’d almost forgotten. He put a few inches between them and pinned her with a look. “I got a phone call. Sadie, you’re never gonna believe this.”

  Her eyes lit. “What? Is it about the book? Did you find the owner?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I got a call from the former tenant of that apartment—his name’s Michael.”

  She beamed. “Was he relieved we found his ring? Has he proposed yet? Is he coming over to get it? Oh, tell me his proposal wasn’t ruined!”

  He chuckled. “I will if you ever give me the chance.”

  She poked his shoulder.

  “First of all, Michael is not the ring’s owner.”

  Her face fell. “What?”

  “He was hired to make the secret compartment in the book. The ring’s owner wanted to keep the gift out of sight and asked Michael to hold on to it for him until the big day.”

  “Then who’s the owner?”

  “That’s the part you won’t believe.” He held Sadie’s gaze for a drawn-out moment. “It’s my dad.”

  Sadie frowned. “What? That can’t be right. What would your dad be doing with an engagement ring?”