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    When We Love
    When We Love
    When We Love
    Ebook167 pages2 hours

    When We Love

    By G. Whitman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "I care about uou Lauren, but I can'y just jump back into things with us. Look you needed time, now i need time."

    "Time for what?"

    "Time to figure out if I can trust you. I'm not a part-time guy. When I love and care about someone, I give myself completely. That's what should happen when we love someone."

    "Hank please..."

    *****************

    Lauren's life has been about her job teaching and raising her daughter. when her daughter goes off to college, Lauren finds herself alone for the first time in years. Now when she finally takes time for herself, she meets a local painter, Hank Waters.

    Hank Waters loves to paint and when his creative juices don't flow, he shell fishes. When he meets Lauren, she's a breath of fresh air. Someone who shows an interest in him and someone who he finds captivating as well as pretty.

    As their relationship developes, they need to recover from old feelings and old relationships. Will Hank's ex be a threat? Lauren and Hank need to learn how to trust again, but that may take more time than they're willing to give.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherG. Whitman
    Release dateNov 12, 2014
    ISBN9781502268709
    When We Love
    Author

    G. Whitman

    I believe in Happily Ever After. I'm always looking for the silver lining and hope to find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I find life absolutely hysterical sometimes and try not to take myself too seriously. I also love watching sports- football, hockey, baseball. I read romance, but I also love a good mystery thriller. You can email me at gwhitmanauthor@gmail.com

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      Book preview

      When We Love - G. Whitman

      Chapter 1

      MICHELLE WAS HAPPILY ensconced in school in Connecticut. Lauren wasn’t sure about taking her daughter two weeks early, especially since Michelle was just a freshman, but college athletes have their own minds. The college was already practicing for field hockey and the next thing would be lacrosse. Lauren knew how much Michelle loved lacrosse and loved being part of a team sport.

      Lauren was by herself for the first time in eighteen years. She taught algebra to sixth graders at the local school, but that was still two weeks away. There was only so much television watching and beach walking she could do. While the walking was healthy, it wasn’t something she could do all day. So, here she was at the local bookstore looking for something to read. Lauren read on her electronic devices, but sometimes she needed a good, old hard cover book to read. What to buy?

      She perused the bestsellers and read the jackets. If she liked what she read on the jackets, Lauren would open the book to some arbitrary page and just read. If she liked that page, she read some other page. If she liked that one, then she purchased the book.

      Attached to the bookstore was a small café. Lauren took her book purchases and decided on some tea and a lemon scone. Finishing her scone and taking her time with her tea, she began reading one of her books. Lauren was deeply entrenched in her reading, but she was jolted back to reality when her table got bumped.

      I’m so sorry, the male voice said.

      That’s okay. Lauren finally looked up.

      No, I’m sorry. I bothered your reading.

      I must admit, I was a little involved in the book.

      Lauren finally had a chance to look at this man. He looked familiar. Probably a local. He spent time in the sun based on his ruddy complexion. Standard garb—khaki shorts, boat shoes, polo, and a cotton baseball hat. The hat couldn’t hide the bright chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that looked right at her.

      He turned his head slightly to read the title of her book. I may have to read that one. You looked so into it.

      A good read so far and I’m only thirty pages in.

      I just picked up the recent ‘history of’ book for this area. For as long as I’ve lived here, I’m always amazed at the information I learn in these books.

      A history buff then?

      More of a local history buff. His chocolate brown eyes smiled. He put out his hand to shake. I’m Hank Waters, by the way.

      I’m Lauren Barry. She shook his hand the paused and looked at him for a moment. Hank Waters. Why does that sound familiar?

      Hank looked at the seaside paintings on the walls. Most of the stores have my paintings on consignment.

      Lauren looked up. Ah yes, but you look familiar as well.

      When I’m not painting, I’m shell fishing.

      That must be it. I live at the end of Indian Road.

      Some great shell beds there. Then he paused. Do you have the house with the flower boxes under the windows?

      I do.

      I always wondered how you kept those flowers so fresh and bright.

      A lot of trial and error.

      Well, it was nice meeting you, Lauren. I’ll let you get back to your reading. Have a good day.

      You too. Lauren watched the chocolate brown eyed man walk away.

      IT WAS STILL A WEEK before school started and there was not much for Lauren to do. Her teaching plan hadn’t changed much in the last few years. Kids today were getting smarter and smarter so she definitely needed to be on her toes.

      The house seemed so empty with Michelle gone. Lauren hadn’t realized just how quiet it could be. Before, Michelle either had music or the TV blaring. That or Michelle and her friends just hung out here at the house.

      Lauren looked around her house and wondered if she didn’t need a new painting over her fireplace. The one there now was something that came with the house when she and her ex bought the house fifteen years ago. She thought about changing it before, but never got around to it. Meeting Hank Waters in the bookstore last week, made her think about it again.

      Lauren laughed to herself as she put the empty coffee mug into the sink. It wasn’t necessarily about wanting a new painting, but maybe running into Hank Waters again. What was it about him? She had been divorced for eight years and no man ever seemed interesting enough. Except for Hank Waters.

      She had seen his paintings before, but hadn’t paid attention. She was heading to the Cape Art gallery on Main Street to take a look. A painting over the mantle would be pricey. She had the money. Her parents had died in the last five years, both of different cancers and within a few years of one another. Which now reminded Lauren to call her doctor to discuss cancer and genetics.

      Lauren’s parents never spent much money and left her and her sister, Carol, a nice little sum. More than enough she thought to buy a nice painting.

      THE CAPE ART GALLERY was exactly as its name suggested. All the art was from local artists painting their rendition of items on the Cape Cod-—seascapes, boats, streets, a lighthouse etc. It was more about attracting the tourist to buy, bringing home their own little piece of the Cape.

      The painting spoke to her as soon as she walked into the gallery. The foreground was sand and dunes. The ocean in the background full of sailboats with sails in reds and yellows.

      It would look great over her gray stone fireplace. Almost like looking out her own window to the ocean. She took a step closer to admire the subtleties of the colors. Lauren’s mind was also assessing its size and decided it would be a great fit above her fireplace.

      Hi. It’s Lauren, isn’t it?

      Lauren was lost in her own thoughts when she turned toward the voice that called her name.

      Oh, Hank, hello, she finally said when she looked at him. I was admiring this painting. I see its one of you yours.

      Yes, from a few years back. Really too big a canvas for most of the gallery’s clientele. Are you looking to add or replace?

      Replace, actually. The painting was there when we bought the house.

      How many years ago was that?

      My ex and I bought it fifteen years ago. She laughed. I think it’s about time for something new."

      Well Hank now knew she was divorced. When she laughed her eyes brightened as well.

      If you’re really thinking about buying it, then I’d be more than happy to help you hang it, if you’d like.

      You don’t have to do that. Not that she minded she thought.

      I so rarely get to see where my paintings end up. It would be fun for me, actually.

      Okay, if it’s not too much trouble. I was actually wondering how I’d get it up on the wall by myself.

      Now I’ve solved your problem.

      Let me pay for this, and we can talk about the when.

      The painting was paid for, and for much less than she had expected. There was no price tag on it, and Lauren wondered if Hank had said anything to the gallery owner ahead of time. They both were free the next day, so they decided on eleven in the morning.

      LAUREN SO RARELY COOKED for anyone but herself recently, she was happy to make an apple spice cake. She would offer that and coffee as some sort of payment for helping her with the painting.

      Hank arrive promptly at eleven. He thought arriving too early might look anxious or something. He was actually, but didn’t need Lauren to know.

      He followed his nose to the aroma of apples and cinnamon, then knocked on the kitchen screen door.

      Hi. Come on in. Lauren opened the door.

      Hi. I wasn’t sure what you had, so I brought some tools. Hank held up a small black plastic tool box. Also some hanging clips in case you need to change yours out.

      I thought about that when I got back here yesterday, but had no idea what was needed. I see I didn’t have to worry about it.

      What smells so good?

      Apple spice cake. I hope you like it.

      Sounds great.

      We can have some now if you’d like. I can offer coffee or tea.

      Paying the worker before the job is done. Hank looked at her and smiled. It’s not usually the order of things.

      Then think of it as incentive. She smiled back. Have a seat. Coffee or tea?

      I’ll have coffee, thank you.

      Lauren cut two pieces of cake and put a dollop of whipped cream on each. She brought the pieces with the utensils to the table, then went back to pour the coffee. Coffee was served, and she sat.

      So, Hank, are you working on any painting projects?

      Hank had already taken a bite of cake. Mmm. This is really good.

      Thank you.

      A rich couple from Nantucket saw some of my stuff. They asked me to their house and showed me where they wanted paintings to go. They gave me some ideas of what they’d like.

      So, carte blanche?

      Basically, but they knew my style. Two of the three paintings are smaller. The large one will take some time. I’ll install them before they get back next spring. Hank finished the cake and took a long sip of his coffee. So, what do you do, Lauren?

      I teach sixth grade math.

      Ooh. Hank made a face. Never a strong subject for me. Thank god I’m creative.

      Actually, I like this age group. They’re either getting it or not. From here the guidance counselors can start screening what direction students might excel in later and suggest classes that will enhance career choices later on.

      All that by sixth grade?

      There are a lot of kids with their career paths already laid out.

      When I was that age, I was just hoping I could get a girl to kiss me.

      That’s on their minds as well.

      They both laughed.

      Good to know some things haven’t changed. He loved the way her eyes lit up. Shall we get that painting up?

      Sure. Right this way. Lauren led him to the living room. She had already taken down the old painting on her own. The gallery had delivered the new painting earlier, all wrapped in brown paper that she had already open and discarded.

      Looks like my job is pretty easy. He tested the hooks already in the wall. Those were sturdy. The new painting was larger, so

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