Jennifer Snow – Falling for Leigh (страница 1)
Can she be his cure for writer’s block?
For New York novelist Logan Walters, falling for the girl next door was more than a cliché. It was a calamity! If Leigh Norris hadn’t been so attractive, and hadn’t been hammering relentlessly while he was trying to write, Logan would never have ascended her rickety ladder in a misguided mix of gallantry and frustration. And he wouldn’t have a broken wrist—or a guilty new assistant who can’t type. Clearly, his escape to the Brookhollow B and B was not going to be the quiet, idyllic retreat he needed to finish his overdue manuscript. But it was fast becoming much more interesting than expected….
“I…uh…hired a typist.”
His agent snorted over the phone. “You’re lying.”
“No, really I did.” He and Leigh hadn’t exactly talked about payment, except for his brief mention of it at the haunted hike, but he certainly planned on compensating her for her time and help. Of course, he’d rather show her his gratitude in other ways, like taking her out on a real date, telling her how wonderful she was and helping to erase some of the pain in her past.
“From what agency?” Clive still sounded suspicious.
“No agency. She’s just a woman who lives here in Brookhollow, next door to the B and B.” It was such an understatement, Logan was almost embarrassed by the lie. But what could he tell Clive? That he was getting help from a woman he was falling in love with in the small town? Clive would for sure give up on him, thinking he’d lost his mind.
“Not the same woman who pushed you off a ladder?”
“Actually, yes.”
Clive laughed. “Wow, way to call in the guilt favor.”
Love can often be found when we’re not looking for it. After painful past experiences, it is sometimes tempting to go through life unaware of the wonderful opportunities around us. But some opportunities, like love, refuse to be ignored. Love doesn’t care that you have life plans, goals that you may be working toward or dreams that you might be chasing. It doesn’t care that your heart may still be mending from a previous tear. And it doesn’t care if the timing just isn’t right. In this story about Logan and Leigh, love is oblivious to the fact that these two shouldn’t fall in love, and it happens anyway.
In this story, both Leigh and Logan are searching for a family of their own, without stopping to realize that together they could have a family and the love they’d never thought possible and had already given up on. I hope you enjoy this story about persevering in the face of heartache and taking that one last chance that just might be the right one.
Hugs,
Jennifer
Falling for Leigh
Jennifer Snow
JENNIFER SNOW
lives in Edmonton, Alberta, with her husband and four-year-old son. She is a member of the Writers Guild of Alberta, the Romance Writers of America, the Canadian Author Association and shewrites.org. She is also a regular blogger on the Harlequin Heartwarming Authors site and is a contributing writer for Mslexia magazine and RWR. She has offered online courses on writing sweet romance through several RWA local chapters and has written articles for Avenue magazine. An active volunteer with Frontier College, she is an advocate for literacy programs worldwide. More information can be found on her website, www.jennifersnowauthor.com.
This book would not have happened so soon if not for the support of my amazing husband. Reagan, I can’t thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to do what I love and for believing in me more than anyone. Thanks a million times to my agent, Stephany Evans, whose happy faces on my manuscripts are what give me the strength to face the tough critiques, as well. And as always, this book wouldn’t shine as brightly without the input from my amazing editor, Victoria Curran. So thank you all again for the love and support.
And finally, a big thank-you to Adoption Options for the resources and examples of Birth Mom letters that both broke and restored my heart.
For Cheryl—“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
—MaryAnne Radmacher
Contents
“WHAT IS THAT NOISE?” Logan Walters asked through clenched teeth. He paced the hardwood floor in his room at the Brookhollow Inn, the room phone cradled to his ear. His laptop sat open on the antique writing desk, and papers were strewn about the bed. Discarded, rolled balls of yellow legal-pad paper lay near the trash can in the corner of the room. So much for the peace and quiet he’d been expecting from the small town in the middle of New Jersey. He’d been making just as much progress in his sublet studio apartment in Manhattan as he was here in Brookhollow.
None.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Walters,” the Brookhollow Inn’s new owner, Rachel Harper, said. “My children aren’t running through the hallways of the guest quarters again, are they?”
“No, not today.” That had been yesterday’s distraction. He couldn’t believe the bed-and-breakfast was home to so many kids. Funny, they’d forgotten to mention it on their newly designed website. He suspected complaints about noise were common now.
He ran a hand through his hair, which reached the back of his shirt collar. Past due for a cut.
Man, he missed the nice, quiet, little old lady that used to own the place. Had he known of the switch in ownership the year before, he certainly wouldn’t have come.
“I don’t hear anything here at the desk. What kind of noise is it?” she asked.
“It’s a hammering sound.” How could she not hear the deafening vibrations echoing off the walls?
“Our renovations have been complete for quite some time.”
He picked up on the note of pride in her voice.
Yes, their renovations—he’d noticed them, too. New paint, new windows, new tiled roof...improvements for sure, but he’d been relieved to see they hadn’t messed with the antique furniture in the guest rooms.
“Maybe it’s coming from outside,” she said. “Would you like me to go take a look?”
Logan was about to reply when the hammering ceased. He waited.
“Mr. Walters?”
“Hang on.” He waited a second longer. Nothing. He brought the receiver back to his ear. “No, that’s okay. It stopped.” Hopefully this time for good.