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One Summer
One Summer
One Summer
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One Summer

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Holly Thomas has a simple plan for the summer - take care of her favorite aunt and celebrate Burkesville's centennial. Her immediate attraction to the town's newest resident quickly proves problematic. Joe Mercer's keeping secrets behind his blue eyes.

Holly's instincts are good. Joe Mercer's reasons for coming to Burkesville are two-fold. On the surface he's the pub owner he looks to be, but he's also undercover for the government. Holly's everything he wants in a woman and he's trapped. He can't confide to her he's in the middle of this little covert assignment, and he can't stay away from her.

When the deal goes down, Joe scrambles to stay on the right side of everything. Holly has it all wrong but he's in too deep to back out of the operation. It's all coming to a head and he'll be able to tell her everything – if he can just hold on to her for one more day.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRayne Forrest
Release dateJan 25, 2016
ISBN9781519954275
One Summer

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    Book preview

    One Summer - Rayne Forrest

    Holly Thomas has a simple plan for the summer - take care of her favorite aunt and celebrate Burkesville’s centennial. Her immediate attraction to the town’s newest resident quickly proves problematic. Joe Mercer’s keeping secrets behind his blue eyes.

    Holly’s instincts are good. Joe Mercer’s reasons for coming to Burkesville are two-fold. On the surface he’s the pub owner he looks to be, but he’s also undercover for the government. Holly’s everything he wants in a woman and he’s trapped. He can’t confide to her he’s in the middle of this little covert assignment, and he can’t stay away from her.

    When the deal goes down, Joe scrambles to stay on the right side of everything. Holly has it all wrong but he’s in too deep to back out of the operation. It’s all coming to a head and he’ll be able to tell her everything – if he can just hold on to her for one more day.

    4 Hearts from The Romance Studio....

    The author has written a really fine story of two people falling in love in a small town, with a little suspense for added interest. The climax of the book really makes this really engrossing love story.

    Chapter 1

    Holly Thomas savored the clean, crisp, flower-scented air found only in small towns as she walked along Linden Drive. Barely daybreak, the sun was nothing more than a golden-pink glow over her left shoulder. The only sounds were her soft, rhythmic footfalls and the chirps of a few early-rising songbirds. Even the neighborhood dogs took no notice of her quiet passage past their yards.  It was blissful, and quite a change from the sounds and smells of Baton Rouge.

    It wasn’t that she hadn’t loved living in Baton Rouge, because she had. The city was multi-cultural, musical, and full of life. It was more a matter of the fact that you could take the girl out of the small town, but you couldn’t take the small town out of the girl. When she’d had the chance to make Burkesville, West Virginia, her permanent home, she’d jumped at it.

    Sol finally lifted a fiery crescent above the mountain ridge to bathe the gray pre-dawn world in shades of green, gold and blue. She loved being up and outside this early. There was something different about the air as the sun began its daily arc across the sky, something new and clean and yet still of the night, invigorating in its peace. To be out walking in the fragrant air of the dawn brought her a spiritual renewal in solitude.

    The cheerful morning birdsong took on a vibrating rumble that brought a sharp protest from the nearest dog and quickly became a barking chorus. The rolling thunder grew deeper, and louder as it approached from the rear. She fought the urge to turn and look. Unless the driver of that car refused to stop at the intersection, she’d satisfy her curiosity soon enough.

    A mid-size maroon car sporting broad white strips on the hood and trunk rolled past her. You didn’t see many of those around. It was a Chevy - an old Chevy- one that still boasted a lot of chrome, and it coasted to a gentle stop at the intersection.

    Holly’s gaze met the driver’s in the side mirror. Vivid blue eyes, sparkling and curiously friendly, watched in. He smiled broadly at her, displaying even white teeth. Tiny lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with good humor. A day’s growth of dark scruff softened his angular cheeks. He nodded in greeting, touching the brim of his ball cap in a gentlemanly gesture. His interested gaze never left hers as the car eased forward in a slow, controlled acceleration. 

    She had no idea who he was, and she had no intention of trying to find out. It didn’t matter how blue his eyes were or how sexy his smile. She wasn’t going to get mixed up with a man right now, and that was all there was to it, although she did wonder, in a metaphorical and rhetorical sort of way, what he was doing cruising the quiet, sleepy streets of the town at six o’clock in the morning. 

    Her walk completed, Holly slipped through the back door of her great-aunt’s house as silently as possible. Aunt Naomi had one of those old-fashioned wooden screen doors with a creaky spring that closed with a bang if you didn’t catch it and ease it shut. Her caution was unnecessary. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee greeted her as Aunt Naomi sauntered into the kitchen, looking the part of the genteel southern lady in her matching nightgown, robe and slippers. Her appearance didn’t fool Holly. 

    Her aunt looked refined but Holly knew Naomi Thomas was tough as nails with an infallible sense about people. When the going got tough, her aunt never failed to dig deep and stand firm in the battle trenches beside her family and friends. Holly loved Aunt Naomi with all her heart.

    I wish I had your energy, child. Aunt Naomi poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Holly. How cold is it outside?

    It’s already in the seventies. Let’s sit on the swing.

    Aunt Naomi nodded and led the way to the front porch, her robe flowing gracefully about her thin frame as she settled on the swing. Leaning back on a few carefully arranged throw pillows, Holly stretched out her long legs and crossed her ankles. She cocked her head and listened.

    The rumble of the Chevy’s mufflers was still audible. She’d bet the neighbors just loved it.  Doubtless Aunt Naomi knew all about the driver, but she needed to be careful in extracting the information. The woman beside her had an uncanny knack for adding one and one and getting the proverbial three.

    Who’s the new guy in the loud car?

    Naomi snorted. New young fellow in town. Came out here to ‘get away from it all.’ Smart-alec if you ask me. Drives around in that noisy car rattling the windows of the Methodist church.

    Holly turned her head so her aunt couldn’t see her smiling at that.

    So, niece, are you going to help with the Centennial Celebration? Or don’t college professors to do that sort of thing?

    Sure we do. All the time. I don’t have to report to the university until August first. I’ll have time to find my own place and help with the festival. I’ve always enjoyed the town’s birthday. The Centennial should be really special.

    Naomi snorted again, but Holly wasn’t fooled by her aunt’s attempt at gruffness.

    I don’t know why you want to go and get your own place in Burkesville when you can stay with me and save your money.  Heck, I don’t even know why you want to live way out here, anyway. You’ll have a half-hour drive each way. There’s lots of new condos with fancy bathrooms and things closer to your new job. You won’t find those ritzy digs in this little backwater town.

    Her aunt was right, but Burkesville was home in a way no other place could ever be. It always had been for Holly.

    Of course there are all those expensive, swanky condos close to McGraw University. I’ve seen them and they are pretty nice. But you’re not there, are you?

    You don’t have to look out for me. Naomi took a sip of her coffee. Or am I some living history lesson you’re going to teach those snotty rich kids about?

    They wouldn’t appreciate you. And I’m not looking out for you. At least, not much. You don’t need it. I’m looking out for me.

    Aunt Naomi patted Holly’s knee, tacit approval of her answers.

    Okay, missy. How are you at making poster signs?

    * * *

    And thank you, Lord, Holly muttered as she put the final brush stroke on the last poster. She’d made twenty, and they lay scattered about the kitchen, drying. If she hustled, she had time to take a shower and get the first batch distributed to some of the local businesses.

    Forty-five minutes and one hot shower later she grabbed the five driest posters and headed out the door on foot. She dropped off the first one at the Methodist church and chatted with the secretary for a few minutes. Then it was on to the library, where she talked for a few more minutes, privately marveling that she had almost the exact conversation at both places.

    It took an hour at the local beauty shop to drop off their poster, but she had an appointment for a trim and a facial, on the house, to welcome to her as a permanent Burkesville resident. It didn’t surprise Holly since folks in Burkesville still believed in a small town welcome.

    Also not surprising for a summer afternoon in the mountains, the sky darkened with the portent of a storm. Casting a weather eye on the clouds, Holly guessed she had just enough time to finish her task and jog home without getting too wet.

    The gas station was a drop and run. Albert was in the middle of an oil change and told her where the hammer and nails were and what pole on which to hang the poster. Quick and easy.

    She was hanging the hammer back on the pegboard when a sudden flash of brilliant lightning and almost simultaneous crack of thunder brought her up short.

    Drat it all. She didn’t want to be stuck at the gas station during a thunderstorm. Albert was not a conversationalist, and she’d either be bored or in his way, or most likely both. Holly darted across the street and into Captain Joe’s, the local pub, just as the first large raindrops splattered on the sidewalk. Maybe she’d get to meet the new proprietor and convince him he needed to promote the Centennial bash.

    She flopped the poster on the pinball machine and slid onto a stool at the end of the bar. A deep, male voice called out from the back room.

    We’re not open yet.

    I just came in to get out of the rain, she called back to him. A head appeared, knee high, around the corner of the doorframe.

    Bright blue eyes peered out from under a ball cap that sported a beer manufacturer’s logo. 

    Holly knew those eyes. It was the driver of the Chevy.

    Well, sit a spell, then. The face disappeared, only to reemerge higher. A lot higher. He had to be six foot if he was an inch.

    He walked toward her, his stride a loose, lazy swagger. He extended his arm with the offer of a handshake. She reached out politely since she was taking him away from his work.

    His handshake was warm and firm. His eyes sparkled at her with obvious male interest.

    Hi. I’m Joe Mercer. His free hand swept up to remove his hat and reveal short dark hair with a hint of gray at the temples.

    Hi. I’m Holly Thomas. So you’re Captain Joe?

    I am. I served in the Air Force for a while. He walked past her and went behind the bar.

    Her question was pure nosiness, but Holly asked it anyway. So how did a ‘captain’ end up way out here in quiet, little Burkesville?

    Joe flashed her that gorgeous smile of his. My pilot decided to let our bird fall out of the sky. Busted up my knee. I got a medical discharge and here I am. What can I get for you? On the house.

    Holly doubted that his casual and here I am was the whole story. It probably wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Not that she was interested and needed the whole story. She just needed a place to wait out the thunderstorm. Or so she told herself. 

    Just soda, please. Not diet.

    Joe poured two and slid one down the bar to her.

    So why are you out in the rain, Holly Thomas?

    He sounded interested, not just polite, and it pleased her. He’d need that sincerity to win over the old guard of the town.

    I’m distributing posters for the Centennial Celebration. Burkesville has a fantastic town birthday party every year, and this one will be bigger and better than ever. You’ll love it. It’s great for business.

    Hmm. That’s good, I suppose. But I think I’d rather be part of the party. He took a swallow of his cola. So tell me more. Maybe I can bring part of the party in here to me.

    Holly pointed her thumb over her shoulder. You can start by allowing me to put up a poster.

    Are you going to tell me you made that all by yourself?

    Warmth suffused her as she looked into his teasing eyes. He certainly was a friendly sort. Handsome, too. Thunder rumbled, strong enough to rattle a few glasses.

    Do you need a lift home? he asked.

    Are you in a hurry to get rid of me?

    His eyes twinkled. His voice was low and smooth as silk. No, Miss Holly. Never that.

    Flirting with him might lead to trouble, but it might also be fun and she’d not had any fun in ages. As long as she made it clear she was just flirting, and not serious, it shouldn’t cause any problems. She batted her eyelashes at him.

    So you think I’d like a ride in that old, noisy car of yours?

    Babe, that car is a 1970 Chevelle Super Sport with a three-ninety-six engine, a four-barrel carburetor and a four-eleven posi-track rear-end. It has headers, dual exhaust and a quick-shift four-speed tranny. It’s been bored, stroked, and blueprinted. They do not make them like that anymore. It’s a true American classic.

    You think? Let’s see. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the bar and resting her chin on her hands as the rain beat against the front windows. I bet it was manufactured the year you were born. Are you a classic, too?

    Oh, yeah, he drawled smoothly. I’m an original classic, too.

    Holly laughed softly. I just bet you are. She sipped her soda.

    So, Holly Thomas, are you a native of Burkesville?

    In a way. My great-aunt has lived here most of her life, and as a girl I spent every summer with her. Even when I was in college, I still came here every year.

    The corner of his mouth bowed up in a wistful, quirky smile. Sounds nice.

    Lightning flashed, a brilliant white blast that illuminated the room for a split second. Thunder crashed almost immediately, followed by a different crash. The building shook. Joe took four quick steps to the window.

    That was really close. He peered out. Damn! It hit that big maple tree across the street.

    Holly darted to the door, needing to get across the street and to make sure the Steins were uninjured. Joe’s hand closed over hers as she turned the doorknob. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against the solid wall of his chest.

    Wait! There could be wires down! I’ll call the emergency crews to take a look.

    She stared up at him, swept by the awareness his warm thighs against her backside. She took a quick breath and the scent of clean male musk imprinted on her brain.

    Did he have to smell so good? And did he have to be so right about running outside?

    Joe blinked at her, then abruptly released her and backed up a step.

    Holly pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, ready to call the fire department, but they’d already arrived. Instead, she called Aunt Naomi to tell her what had happened, and to have her call the Steins and make sure they were uninjured.

    She turned to find Joe watching her with poorly veiled interest. Holly quickly glanced away, her gaze going back to the activity across the street.

    That’s one of the things about Burkesville. There’s always someone to look out for you.

    She risked another look at him and saw sadness flash across his face. It was fleeting, there only for a moment, but she didn’t imagine it. He walked to the side windows and glanced up at the sky. Looks like the storm is about over. The rain is letting up.

    Holly picked up the poster and went to the window beside him. People were arriving to aid in cleaning up the damage across the street.  Maybe her best course of action was to complete her original mission and go home to check on her aunt’s place.

    So, Captain Joe, can I hang my poster in your establishment?

    Only if you agree to have lunch with me.

    Oh ho, ho. You’d blackmail me? You? An officer and a gentleman?

    That slow, lazy grin spread across his face again. The man had no right to look that good. Maybe if he shaved that would help. He probably wouldn’t have half so much appeal without those scruffy dark whiskers on his cheeks.

    I retired from being an officer and a gentleman, Ms. Thomas. I can blackmail you into lunch and still sleep with a clear conscience.

    You know, Captain Joe, there are any number of places in Burkesville just clamoring for one of my original, collectable pieces of artwork. She held the poster up in front of her. You could put it right on the inside of the door where everyone would see it as they left.

    What about lunch? It’s on the house. I serve a great chicken salad. I can even put that on one of those fancy croissants. You look like a lady who’d appreciate a croissant.

    He was certainly persistent.

    Do you have chocolate silk pie for dessert?

    Sorry, no. I’m a little lacking in the dessert department. I’ve not found a lady willing to bake for me.

    Of course. It made sense Joe didn’t actually cook everything in his own kitchen. He was the new customer the owner of Maggie’s Deli had raved about. He bought everything from her and just served it. Now she understood why Maggie was in drool mode over the new customer, too.

    She was headed down a path that led straight to trouble. Big trouble. She had a new job, and she needed to buckle down and finish her doctorate. She didn’t want to be distracted by anything. Her best course of action was to simply steer clear of Joe Mercer.

    He gripped the poster, his long fingers a fraction of an inch inside hers. His nails were square, neatly cut and well tended.

    Holly wished she hadn’t noticed his nails. How a man cared for his fingernails was a big insight into his character. The thought of those fingertips trailing slowly over her skin sneaked into her consciousness. Her nipples tingled and peaked. Thank all the stars the poster was between them and he couldn’t notice because the thin cotton of her T-shirt would surely give her away. She wished he wasn’t having such an effect on her. Truly.

    She wished she could just keep her mouth shut, but the words just seemed to fall out.

    You should call Thelma Stein. She bakes the most incredible stuff.

    Joe glanced out the window. The lady across the street?

    The same. She’s been retired less than a year and the word is she’s looking for something to do. You can mention my name to her, if you like.

    He gave her a calculating look. I suppose dropping your name around Burkesville will open a lot of doors?

    The old guard is what it is, Captain Joe. She shook the poster. Can I put this on your door?

    Nope. I’ll put it up. He plucked the poster from her grasp. You’d probably want to use sixteen-penny nails and make big holes in my brand new, expensive, oak door. He shook in an exaggerated shiver.

    Holly smiled at him. Thanks, Joe. I’d better be going. I want to get home and check on my aunt. Then I have to grab more dry posters, and make a few more calls. I’ll take a rain check on lunch, though.

    Okay. He met her gaze, and nodded as he opened the door for her.

    She paused just over the threshold. See you around, Joe Mercer.

    Joe nodded and watched her cross the street before he closed the door. He’d hang her poster, then he’d go see if he could help clean up the debris on the other side of the street. That would give him an opening to introduce himself to Mrs. Stein. He found some smaller finishing nails and, wincing at the thought of damaging his new door, hung the poster.

    Oh, yeah, Holly Thomas. You’ll see me. Count on it.

    Chapter 2

    Joe slid a draft beer down the bar to his best customer,

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