The Princess Problem (14 page)

She needed to get hold of herself. She knew that. She dried her eyes, blew her nose, gathered up her things, went back to the guest room, and shut the door. She put her stuff down and climbed into the bed.

She’d unpack in the morning after she had an inkling about how long she’d be staying before moving to a hotel. Right now all she wanted to do was to escape into dreamland.

***

Trevor Baron turned onto his driveway. It was almost midnight and all he wanted to do was eat the turkey dinner his mom had promised to leave, and then fall into bed.

Another day or two and he’d be finished with the backbreaking schedule he was on.

There was a car parked on one side of the driveway, in his spot. It took him a moment to realize the vehicle must be his sister’s new car. He’d heard her jerk-off husband had bought one as a bribery gift. Since Elizabeth was at Trevor’s house, he’d guess it hadn’t worked. No surprise there. His sister wasn’t the kind of woman to forgive infidelity, or to forget.

He went for the mail and on the way back to the house, reached into the bed of his truck, grabbed three fishing poles-–minus hooks--and propped them by the side of the cabin.

He knew the three boys he’d taken them from would eventually work up the courage to steal them back, and knew the lack of hooks, and the fact that the boys had been caught fishing illegally, wouldn’t stop them from doing it again. It hadn’t stopped him at that age, either.

Smiling, he continued to the back gate, opened it, and let himself in. “Hey, Charlie boy. Come here.”

A dark form moved toward Trevor and a big head bumped against his hand.

“You eat all that food I left out?”

Trevor checked the dog dishes, one empty and one still half-full of water. “Good boy.”

Trevor went down on one knee and rubbed the dog’s thick fur coat while Charlie, ecstatic, wiggled like a puppy. With one last pat, Trevor opened the back door–-no need to lock it with Charlie in the back yard-–and they both went inside.

Charlie immediately bounded up the stairs, probably looking for Elizabeth, and Trevor headed for his office.

He was tired. He’d worked the entire day, putting in a full eight hours, most of it rounding up a deer wandering the city and returning it to the forest. He’d then talked to reporters about the incident.

After some routine paperwork, he’d taken time to catch the kids doing their spot of illegal fishing, then back to work for the rest of the evening repairing some commercial property for the family company.

All the painting he’d done had made his back sore. But only a few more nights and the building would be ready to lease again and he could relax.

Opening his safe, he locked his gun away, set his belt on the desk and went back to the kitchen to get his dinner.

He opened the fridge.

No dinner.

Had his mom forgotten him? A note on the countertop caught his eye and he kicked the fridge shut and snagged it.
I’ve left a plate of food for you in the fridge. Love, M.

He checked again. The milk, ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise weren’t hiding a plate of food. He checked the freezer. Nothing.

Thinking about Elizabeth’s car in the driveway, he opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the garbage. Sure enough. A used sheath of tin foil lay on top and had very likely covered his plate of food.

Well, that was nice.

He rubbed a hand over his full beard, blew out a breath, then got out fixings for peanut butter and honey sandwiches. He slathered four slices of bread, and poured himself a large glass of milk.

He took his plate and glass out to the living room, set them on an end table, grabbed the remote control, sat and turned on ESPN.

It was on the wrong channel and--

His chair
! Jumping up, he quickly scanned the poorly repaired chair, then glared at the stairs and considered waking Elizabeth to have a talk. But she had at least
tried
to fix it and that surprised him, so, disgusted, he changed the channel to ESPN, quickly ate, and, with Charlie now back and watching his every move, spent the next thirty minutes re-glueing the chair correctly,
and
placing the clamps where they’d actually do their job.

He finally turned the chair around carefully set it in the corner so Elizabeth wouldn’t forget and sit in it again.

It was time for bed. In the morning, he was going to have a talk with his sister because this was getting out of hand. She needed to work out her marriage problems on her own time. Or at least in her own house. Or at their parents’ place if she had to go somewhere.

With Charlie following, Trevor climbed the stairs, walked down the hall, opened the door, and absolutely couldn’t believe it.

She was in his bed!

Talk about selfish!

He wouldn’t lose his temper. They could discuss this like the two grown adults they were. How much could a man be expected to take from his big sister? She could stay in his house, she could even eat his food and break his furniture. But danged if she was sleeping in his bed! She could take the spare room. There was a reason that mattress was uncomfortable. He didn’t like guests!

He flipped on the light and his sister sat up, looked to where he stood in the doorway, and sucked in a loud breath.

The only problem was, it wasn’t his sister.

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Excerpt of Pride and Precipitation by Heather Horrocks

Breezy Jones is crazy about the weather, rain or shine, which makes her new job as the local television station’s meteorologist perfect. She’s even hoping the new buyers of her Aspen Grove, California, station will make some positive changes.

That’s before she meets the attractive new general manager, Noah Drake , who is determined to repackage everything—including Breezy’s down-home delivery and casual, girl-next-door appearance that seems too Pollyanna for him. He Withs her with a high-powered diva weathercaster and makes Breezy her off-screen assistant.

With a flood of angry emails from the community, plummeting ratings, and incessant demands from the diva, it doesn’t take long for Noah to see which way the wind is blowing .

Will the station survive the competitive clash between pride and precipitation?

More importantly, can their blossoming attraction survive ?

Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather. (John Ruskin)

Chapter One

Monday, April 1

“Mom, Dad, I have something important to tell you.” Breezy Jones sucked in a deep breath as she stood on her higher-than-comfortable heels and straightened her skirt. She had to act casual or she couldn’t pull this off.

On Breezy’s left, her mother looked up from loading the dishwasher and, at the far end of the breakfast nook table, her father lowered his newspaper. He had an iPad, but would doubtless cling to his daily print newspaper right up until the day they stopped delivering, probably because it looked silly to hide behind an iPad.

“Have a seat, Mom.” Breezy bit the inside of her lip. “You’ll need it.”

Her mother circled the counter and sat next to her father, and both watched Breezy expectantly. They made such an adorable pair. Her big, strong, silver-haired, handsome father and her petite, cute-as-a-button, flibbertigibbet blonde mother. Apparently opposites did attract.

“I don’t know how to say this other than to just say it.” Breezy sighed dramatically, and then lowered the April Fool’s boom. “I got fired from the station.”

Other than her mother’s ferocious gasp as she placed her hand to her heart, the kitchen was silent. Her father tipped his head and studied her.

It only took a moment for her mother to recover her voice and jump up from the table. With a worried look, she said, “Breanne, you cannot have been fired. Everyone loves you at the station. Your ratings are high. Your forecasts are accurate. What on earth would they fire you for? This has got to be a horrible misunderstanding.” She looked over at her husband, who set the newspaper on his lap. “Your father will go to the station with you and straighten this out. Tell her you will, Arthur.”

Before her father could say anything, her mother whirled back around. “This is awful. You’ll be ruined. Your career could be over before it’s even begun.”

Her father adjusted his glasses, smiled gently, and drew in a deep breath. “It’s April Fool’s Day, Emily.” He winked at Breezy, who couldn’t resist smiling back.

Her mother looked at her husband, then at Breezy. She narrowed her eyes. “I do not appreciate this at all, Breanne Jones.”

Breezy laughed as her smiling father ducked behind the newspaper again. “It is April Fool’s Day, after all, Mom, and I figured you must have already gotten a call from Kendra saying her house had been struck by a hurricane or something.”

“No. Your sister has not called to give me any heart attacks today.”

“The day’s still young,” Dad said, newspaper still in front of his face.

“I’m sure I’ve aged ten years from the shock.” Shaking her finger at her daughter, Breezy’s mother said, “Don’t do that to me, Breezy. I mean it. My heart can’t take it.”

“Okay. I won’t do it again.” Breezy wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “I almost told you I was pregnant, but I didn’t think you would find that very funny.”

“I didn’t think this was funny.” Her mother frowned. “And you’re not even dating anyone. Heaven knows I wish you were, and you know how much I want grandchildren, but I’m glad you know you’ve got to have a husband first.”

Breezy squeezed her mother’s shoulders and stepped over to the table, moving the bowl of strawberries to the counter. “That’s the general idea.”

Her mother touched her arm. “After you’re married, Dear. Then you can announce you’re pregnant.”

“Call us from the honeymoon suite to announce it, Breezy.” Dad’s voice floated over the weather section. “That would thrill your mother.”

“The thought of a marriage would thrill me. When are you going to start dating again, Breezy? You and Kendra are twenty-eight and thirty. Your eggs are probably drying up as we speak. Can’t you hear your biological clock ticking? Because I can.”

“The only thing Breezy hears is the weather.”

Now that was true. And Dad should know. They were kindred spirits.

“Look who’s talking,” Mom said. “Weatherman for thirty years.”

“And retired just in time to pass the mantle on to my daughter.” Dad looked over the paper again, fondness in his eyes. “How are things going at the station?”

“Wonderful.” Breezy laughed. “Though there are a few changes I’d like to make. Shake things up a bit.”

Dad laughed. “Good luck with that bunch in management.”

“Change can be hard.” Her mother put the strawberries into a container, snapped on the lid, and placed it in the fridge.

“Change can be good, too.” Dad shrugged. “But, like I always say, If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

“Wait a minute. I just had a wonderful idea.” Her mother’s face lit up with excitement.

Oh, no. Not again. Her mother’s wonderful ideas usually involved men and matchmaking.

“I’m going to invite a man over to dinner next Sunday.”

Breezy groaned. “Mom, no dates.” Though she wasn’t opposed to dating, per se, she did object to the men her mother lined her up with.

“But now you’re out of graduate school, you have time to date again. I’m going to invite over two men. And I’ll get your sister over here, too. You can both come early and I’ll give you lessons in how to flirt. I’m tired of waiting around for you late bloomers. Then when I line you up for blind dates, you’ll get a second date.”

“No date! But I could totally ace Eyelash Batting 101.”

“Mock me all you want. Your father loves it when I bat my eyelashes.”

Her father lowered his paper and smiled his gentle smile again. “It’s true. I do.”

Her mother sighed. “Speaking of batting your eyelashes, I hear Andrew’s back in town for a visit.”

Andrew North? “That’s really nice, Mom. Thanks for letting me know the man who dumped me two years ago is back in the vicinity.”

“Forewarned is forearmed.” Her father turned another page. “Like receiving a tornado warning in time to board up the windows.”

The last thing she wanted to deal with was her ex-boyfriend showing back up in town. Everyone had thought for sure they’d get married, but Andrew had bigger plans. He’d left Breezy, not for a racier woman, but for a racier city. Los Angeles, to be exact. If he was in town, she was sure it was only for a brief visit and then he’d be back out looking for the thrills that small-town Aspen Grove, California, could never provide for him.

Dad was right. Forewarned was forearmed. Now she was ready so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself if she ran into him. But she would try very hard to not run into him at all until he went back to big old LA.

Her mother tilted her head in thought. “I know. I’ll invite Andrew over.”

“Don’t you dare, Mom! I mean it! That is so over.”

Her mother sighed. “Sometimes all someone needs is a second chance. And you should do good to everyone.”

Breezy pointed her finger at her mother. “If you do, I will walk right back out the door.”

“Oh, you will not.” Her mother shot her an appraising look. “You will sit down and visit with the man while he’s here.”

Her father said, “Any man who passed up our daughter has mush for brains.”

When Breezy’s cell phone chirped to tell her it was time to leave for work, she pulled it out and turned off the timer. “Thanks for a delicious lunch, Mom. Love you both. This is much better than going to my house for a lunch all by myself.”

She pulled first her mother and then her father into a hug.