Heat Wave
Authors: Kate J Squires
Heat Wave
Kate J. Squires
Heat Wave
Kate J. Squires
It may not be the love boat, but this cruise is definitely setting sail for sex, adventure, and love.
When Maddie runs into her old high school boyfriend Beau on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, she can't believe how naturalâand rightâit feels to be back by his side. But her romantic daydreams are shattered when she turns up at her new job and discovers that her sweet Texan flame is the star of the new hit reality show
Ship of Love
.
But does a chance meeting mean a new beginning, or history repeating itself?
As a production assistant, Maddie is forced to watch ten gorgeous ladies in designer bikinis compete for Beau's attention in luxurious settings, while Maddie chases after them in t-shirts and running shoes. The work is hard, her boss wants to throw her overboard, and Maddie is rapidly losing her resolve against workplace romances. The show might be all smooth sailing, but Maddie is facing rough waters ahead.
Kate J. Squires is a Gold Coast girl with a love of all things romantic. Her career has been strange and varied: she worked for Disney, was a professional fire dancer, performed with dolphinsâand even spent five months on board a cruise ship, accumulating the stories to make this book happen.
Currently, she travels around Australia working with public speakers in between spinning her romantic yarns, and teaches hot yoga in her spare time. She is a self-proclaimed wordsmith who always wears odd socks and is grateful every day for the opportunity to use her talents.
I'd like to thank my friend Greg, who inspired the Greg in this series. In real life, he's far more awesome than I could ever capture in words, and his love of
Survivor
and his name dropping tales from behind the camera on sets all over the world are a big part of the reason this series exists in the first place.
I'm thankful for the million little influences that help me to craft a simple romance into an adventureâlike the grass expert who once talked my ear off about turf on a Gold CoastâSydney flight, my brief stint behind the scenes on
Big Brother
, and the time I spent working on board a cruise ship, endlessly washing my hands, recovering from drunken nights and exploring island ports.
A big shout-out to my brilliant girlfriends Jess, Benay and Simone, who are my first and most avid readers, and to my gorgeous husbandâwhile he isn't a cowboy, he is and always will be my leading man.
Finally, I'm grateful to Kate Cuthbert and the team at Harlequin for bringing my work to life and giving it a platform.
For my wonderful Wattpad readers, who helped me keep this story going when it stalled, and whose unending enthusiasm has made my writing journey possible.
Contents
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishingâ¦
I held the expensive black Olympus in my hands and took a little step to the left to make sure Sydney Harbour Bridge was framed perfectly behind the Japanese couple. âOkay, love-birds. Smile! Three, two,
one.
'
As I hit the button, the slender camera slipped from my fingers and cracked as it hit the concrete steps of the Opera House. âOh no! No!'
Stooping, I picked up the device, as the husband and wife ran over. âSorry! I'm so sorry!'
âDo not worry, please,' nattered the tiny wife. âIt is a tough, waterproof, very strong. Can drop and will be fine.'
âOh, thank goodness.' The information was a relief. My natural ability to attract shit and disaster didn't only affect me, but I tried to minimise the collateral damage when I could.
The husband extended his arm, and as I handed the camera back the shattered lens flashed in the streetlight. âNot so tough after all,' he said sadly.
âBugger.' With only eight bucks left in my bank account and my credit card maxed out, I couldn't even offer to replace the camera. âI am so sorry.'
They were so lovely, reassuring me with talk of extended warranties and back up cameras at their hotel. Thankful, I shook their hands and they pattered off happily to join the other sightseers milling about, bound for more viewing of iconic Aussie landmarks.
Surrounded by happy tourists and dark water, I slumped on the stairs and examined my life. There was a question that had been haunting me for years, one I'd been avoiding like I would a handsy random in a club, one highlighted even further by the last few minutes.
Is there a reason why I screw up everything I touch?
It wasn't like I didn't have good intentions; for example, I'd jumped up to offer my services as a photographer for the cute Japanese couple because I knew when I'd travelled, I always appreciated pictures of me that weren't selfies. But instead of snapping a memorable pic for them with an Australian icon, I trashed their camera. I was a disaster zone.
I'd never been a moper; my life was all about what was next. Pushing myself to be positive, I perched on the steps and tried listing some gratitudes:
I'm grateful I'm healthy.
I'm grateful I'm ⦠not fat?
I'm grateful for the six different friends who've let me crash on their couches in the last six months so I'm not homeless.
I'm grateful for all my free time because I'm unemployed and have no relationship.
I'm grateful for â¦
I gave up. Letting my silky black hair fall around me like a shield, I dropped my head, hiding from the world that I just couldn't click with for some reason.
âMaddie?'
The voice made me freeze, that easy drawl so familiar. I raised my eyes and there he was, standing at the bottom of the stairs.
âTanner?' It had been almost a decade, and it took me a few beats to recognise my first real boyfriend. Gone was his uniform of faded jeans and a plaid shirt; Tanner stood in beige cargo pants and a fitted black sweater, both of which bore the hallmarks of expensive brands and probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.
When I'd known him as a sixteen-year-old, his hair had been long and unruly, snaking down to his collar and forever in his face. Now, it was a carefully sculpted haven of dark blond swirls and spikes, crying out for someone to rake their fingers through its soft surface. His eyes were older, much older, a darker brown than I'd remembered in my dreams. If I'd walked past him on the street, I wouldn't have recognised him.
But his voice â¦
that laidback Southern accent. Immediately, it took me back to lazy days of lying under summer night skies and riding across freshly harvested fields.
He spoke again. âMaddie. Oh my Lord.'
âTanner!' I stood as he took the stairs two at a time. âWhat are you doing here?'
He reached my step and wrapped me in his arms, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. I melted into him, his fresh scent flooding my head as he swung me in a circle. âMy girl! Goddamn, I've missed you. I never thought I'd see you again, not in a million years.'
Unexpected tears rushed to my eyes as I pressed my face into his chest, not willing to break the embrace yet. âTanner. I can't believe it. Oh my God.'
We stood holding each other for a long minute, our bodies connected, remembering how it used to be. Finally, Tanner drew back just far enough to stare into my face. âHey! No tears, Maddie-girl.' He raised his calloused thumb and wiped the tracks from my cheeks. âThe last time I saw these pretty blue eyes, they were crying because of me. I can't bear to see it again.'
âHappy tears,' I promised, reluctantly dropping my arms and stepping back to a socially acceptable distance. âHow did you know it was me?'
He shrugged, kicking a pointy-toed boot, which made me inwardly grin.
My farmhand is still in there somewhere.
âWould you think me a fool if I told you every time I see a girl with dark hair sitting all on her lonesome, I think of you?'
Flushing with joy, I replied, âNot at all.' I'd thought of Tanner with frightening regularity for my entire adult life. I squeezed him on the arm to check he was really there and not a figment of my lonely imagination. âThis is surreal!'
He laughed, the same old Tanner bellow that made my insides light up. âTell me about it. Hey, can I buy you a drink? I'd love to catch up on old times. Unless you're waiting for someone?'
I was only a little embarrassed to admit, âI'm not waiting for anyone at all. I'd love to.'
He offered me his arm and I slid my hand through the loop, fitting easily against him as if we'd never been apart. Growing up, I'd always been the awkward tall girlâI'd been all limbs, like a baby deer and just as uncoordinated. I'd hunched and slunk my way through most of my high school years, trying to crouch down to fit in.
But when my dad moved us over to Texas and I met Tanner, I finally stood tall. With his towering height, I felt like we matched, two lanky teens standing over the world together.
But we weren't teens anymore, and Tanner was no longer a gangly kid; he was a beautiful, broad-shouldered man, with biceps rolling under the material of his sweater, and what looked to be the ripples of a six-pack hiding on his belly. Being by his side, I not only didn't feel ridiculously tallâI felt secure and at home.
We stepped carefully down the stairs, our feet in time. âSo, do you know any good spots for a drink?' he asked.
âUm ⦠the Opera Bar is pretty good.' I'd only left there an hour before; a girl I'd worked with a few years ago had invited me out for her birthday. Being she-with-the-empty-wallet, I'd drunk water all night and watched Becca swan around the room, fluttering between her friends and colleagues, her loving husband by her side.
When the party moved on to a nearby club, I'd made my excuses and waved them off. I hadn't wanted to head back to my current squat, the bachelor pad of an old uni buddy, where my backpack and I occupied the futon couch of his tiny lounge room. I slept with ear buds in so I didn't have to listen to George and his girlfriend moan and thump as they screwed each other silly every night.
Instead, I'd headed for the Opera House, trying to kill time and to not feel too sorry for myself by reciting gratitudes. Now, arm in arm with my first love, I had a new one.
I'm grateful for Tanner.
We turned into the sunken bar, and sat on tall seats at a tall table, perfect for our long legs. The vista out over the twinkling lights of Sydney harbour hadn't changed, but somehow, everything seemed brighter now I had him next to me.
Tanner opened the cocktail menu. âDo you still like pink grapefruit?'
âYes! How do you remember that?' I was dumbfounded.
With melted chocolate eyes, he looked up at me. âI remember everything, Maddie.'
âHey, guys,' the waitress bustled over with water glasses, her smile goofy as she absorbed Tanner in all his gorgeousness. âWhat can I get you?'
âA Ruby Mexicana for the lady, and I'll have an OB Pale Ale. Thank you kindly.' He handed her the folder, but kept his eyes on me. âIt's on me, if that alright?'
I had planned on protesting and ordering a water; a $20 cocktail wasn't in my budget at that moment in time, but I wasn't a charity case. Tanner's earnest face, waiting for me to accept, had me throw my idiotic pride out the window.
Let the man buy you a drink!