SWEET HAVEN
Home Sweet Home #1
Shirlee McCoy
Released February 23rd, 2016
Zebra: Kensington
In Benevolence, Washington, the
Lamont family's irresistible handmade chocolates are a cherished tradition--and
always a reason to celebrate. And now they're giving the three Lamont sisters,
one by one, delicious chances to start again, make a change, and have their
sweetest dreams come true...
Neighbors who care, a peaceful
routine--accountant Adeline Lamont is glad some things about her beloved
hometown never change. But when her grandfather is injured, she has to run the
family store, Chocolate Haven, and make its legendary fudge. Trouble is, she
can't get the recipe right to save her life--or Chocolate Haven. And she
doesn't need her ornery new tenant, Sinclair Jefferson, stirring up the pot
with his help--and daring Addie to taste her wild side…
Once Sinclair gets his hapless
brother back on track, he's leaving Benevolence for good this time. He's made
his life far away from his irresponsible family and their scandals. Trouble is,
he can't quite stay away from Addie's optimism, enticing plus-size curves, and
kindness to those who need it most. But they don't seem to have a thing in
common--except that Addie's passion for chocolate, and for Benevolence, is just
as contagious as Sinclair's passion for her. Maybe small-town life has its
charms after all…
Addie
held the cell phone to her ear as she carefully released milk chocolate hearts
from their molds.
Twelve
glossy, beautiful hearts. They were perfect. Her day had been nearly perfect
too. Good sales. Happy customers. Even newlyweds who’d driven from Spokane to
buy a pound of chocolates for their road trip to Glacier National Park.
Yes. Things had been going
wonderfully since she’d arrived at the shop. Until now.
“I can’t believe I let this happen!”
Nehemiah’s voice rang through the phone, his tone just short of panic.
“You entrusted the dog to me, and
I’ve failed you!”
“You haven’t failed me,” she assured
him, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nehemiah was
a good guy, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. He’d been known to
misplace his glasses, his cane, his shoes. Maybe he’d just misplaced her giant
puppy. “Are you sure he’s not just hiding somewhere?” she asked as she flipped
another mold tray, watched the beautiful hearts release onto the marble board.
“Addie, you’re a smart girl, so what
would make you ask such a stupid question?” Nehemiah responded.
“He’s huge. Where could he possibly
hide?”
“Under the coffee table?”
“Three months ago, he could have
gotten under there. Not anymore. I think he slipped outside when I went to get
the paper. The storm door wasn’t closed when I got back from the mailbox.”
An open door? That was an invitation
for Tiny to run.
The sick feeling morphed to full-out
dread. “How long do you think he’s been gone?”
“Let’s see . . . I went out to get
the paper before the sun set. So . . .” He mumbled something. Maybe a
calculation of the time the sun went down and the current time—six thirty.
“Two hours?” he finally said.
She didn’t curse. She thought about
it, though. God, did she think about it!
“Two hours?” she repeated, hoping to
heaven that she’d misheard. That maybe he’d said two minutes. Or twenty. Or
anything but two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes for Tiny to find trouble.
“I’d say about that. Seems to me I
was thinking about starting my roasted chicken when I got in. That would have
been about four thirty.”
“And you didn’t see him in the house
after you got the paper?” she pressed, hoping against hope that somehow he was
mistaken and Tiny really wasn’t gone.
“I wasn’t really looking for him. He
was sleeping right near the fireplace when I went for the paper, relaxing on
that old throw rug I brought down from the attic. Same as every day. I went
into the kitchen, had me some coffee and a couple of those shortbread cookies I
like so much. The ones from Ella’s Bakery Emporium? You been there, right?”
“Right,” she managed to say through
gritted teeth. She’d been there. She’d eaten a scone. She’d enjoyed every bite
of it, but she didn’t want to discuss it. Not while Tiny was missing and
presumed to be causing trouble.
“Great baked goods, that girl. She
knows how to do things right. Reminds me of my Mary Sue’s baked goods. Mary
Sue? She could—”
“Nehemiah,” she interrupted as
gently as she could, as kindly. Mary Sue had died the previous spring. They’d
been married for nearly seventy years. “I need to go look for Tiny. I’ll call
you as soon as I find him.”
“I really hope you do find him,
Addie. I really do. I feel responsible for that dog, and I’ve grown to like
him. Problem is, I’m too slow and old and he’s too young and fast. Maybe it’s just
not a good match, me dog-sitting him.”
Maybe not. Probably not, but she
didn’t have another option. Janelle wasn’t going to take the dog. All Addie’s
friends had pets or kids or a combination, and she didn’t feel like she could
burden them with a highenergy, trouble-finding giant.
That sick feeling, that hard-hitting
dread that was building in her stomach seemed to fill her chest, and she could
barely breathe. “It’s okay, Nehemiah. I’ll find Tiny, and then we’ll discuss
ways of keeping him from escaping again.”
She said good-bye and grabbed her
coat from the hook near the back door, the beautiful chocolates left on the
marble slab on the counter. She’d managed to mold all three flavors. Milk
chocolate, white chocolate, dark chocolate. She’d purchased cute orange and
white polka-dot cupcake wrappers to set the chocolates in. Hopefully May would
be pleased.
If not, she’d have to start from
scratch, come up with another presentation for the chocolate wedding favors May
had ordered.
May, who had called three times to
ask about the diet, the exercise program, and the dress. The one that still
didn’t have a working zipper. Addie walked to the whiteboard list, put a red
check near Fix dress, scribbled Find Tiny at the very top, wrote Figure out
what to do about Tiny at the bottom.
She wanted to believe Nehemiah could
continue to take care of the puppy, but she didn’t want to stress out her
elderly neighbor. She also didn’t want to put a strain on their friendship.
She’d been there nearly every day when Mary Sue was dying. She’d cooked meals,
swept floors, dusted. Mostly she’d just listened to her neighbors share stories
of the life they’d had together. As Mary Sue’s illness grew worse, she’d lost the
ability to speak, the cancer settling into her brain and stealing her ability
to communicate. That’s when Nehemiah had started to talk about what he was
losing and about how much he’d loved what he’d had with his wife.
Only he hadn’t been talking to
Addie. He’d been speaking to Mary Sue, saying the words over and over again as
he held the hand of his dying wife. I loved you the day we met. I loved you the
day we married. Every day after I have loved you, and I will love you through
eternity.
Thinking about it made goose bumps
rise on Addie’s arms and tears burn at the back of her eyes. What Nehemiah and
Mary Sue had? That was love, and when she’d seen it, she’d known that what
she’d had with Adam had been a poor facsimile. She’d also known that Nehemiah
would be lost without that love to guide him, that half of his whole would be
gone and that he’d need someone to fill just a tiny bit of the space Mary Sue
had left.
She’d tried to do that, making him
meals and visiting him every afternoon. It had been harder to do that since
Granddad’s accident, but Nehemiah had seemed happy enough with Tiny keeping him
company. Until now.
No. She couldn’t add stress to
Nehemiah’s life, and she couldn’t hurt their friendship over a dog.
She’d come up with another plan for
Tiny’s day care, and she’d bring Nehemiah to the local animal shelter, help him
choose an elderly companion dog. One that would spend all day lying by the
fireplace and thumping its tail every time Nehemiah spoke.
She locked the shop’s back door,
jogged to her car. Thank goodness she’d closed up for the evening.
Without
an assistant to man the shop, she’d have had no choice but to close down during
business hours.
That
wasn’t something Byron would ever have done. Chocolate Haven was his first
priority. Always.
Unfortunately,
she had other things that needed her attention. Like her accounting business,
her dog, her life.
She climbed into the car, pulled
around the side of the building and onto Main. A light in Granddad’s apartment
was on, the soft glow of it spilling out onto the awning that covered the
entrance to Chocolate Haven. Sinclair must have returned, but she hadn’t seen
him or his truck.
Not that she’d been looking.
She’d been too busy to pay attention
to the comings and goings of her grandfather’s tenant.
Sure you were, a little voice
whispered.
She ignored it.
She scanned the road as she drove
down Main Street. No sign of Tiny. Two hours was a long time for a dog to be
wandering around. He could be miles away, trotting down the highway heading for
Spokane or Seattle or Idaho.
God, she hoped not. He was a pain in
the butt, but she didn’t want anything to happen to him.
She passed Nehemiah’s saltbox-style
house and pulled up in front of her bungalow. She hadn’t left any lights on,
and the place was dark and a little lonely looking. She’d have to remember that
she didn’t want to come home to that, because . . . well, she didn’t. She
jumped out of the car, ran across the yard. Tiny wasn’t waiting on the front
porch the way she’d hoped he would be.
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Print Copy of SWEET HAVEN
Shirlee McCoy spent her childhood making up stories and acting them out
with her sister. It wasn’t long before she discovered Nancy Drew, The Hardy
Boys, her mother’s gothic romances . . . and became an ardent fan of romantic
suspense. She still enjoys losing herself in a good book. And she still loves
making up stories. Shirlee and her husband live in Washington and have five
children. Readers can visit her website at www.shirleemccoy.com
1 comment:
Thank you for hosting SWEET HAVEN today!
Crystal, Tasty Book Tours
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