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Adamnodded. “Yeah.Let’ssip and compare in order.”
Theystarted tasting, each one more delicious than the last.Adamreached for a mini quiche at the same time asHazel, their fingers brushing.Theyboth went completely still, eyes locking, awareness zapping between them, just like it had that morning.Whenshe’d been wearing a soaking white wet robe and he’d seen the delicious outline of her breasts and—
Shepulled her hand away slowly. “CanIread your book?” she asked again, her voice soft.
Henodded. “Ifyou want.There’sa copy in the lounge at the inn.”
Shegrinned. “Ican’t wait.”Theyboth chewed and sipped for a few minutes before she asked, “So…what happened?”
“Ha, well,” he said, shaking his head. “Ifound an agent, who sold the book to a publisher inNewYork.Thedeal was for three books.Themoney wasn’t great, butIdidn’t really care.Ihad my foot in the door, you know?Thebeginnings of something.”Shewatched him, rapt as he spoke.Beforehe could talk himself out of it, he reached across the table and brushed a crumb away from the corner of her mouth.Shelet out a tiny gasp that went straight to his dick, and he let his thumb linger on her warm skin, just for a second. “Sorry, you had a little something.”
“Don’tbe sorry,” she said breathlessly. “It’s…it’s fine.”Shetook a breath, and then asked, “Sothen what happened?”
“Thefirst book came out and didn’t do very well.Granted, it didn’t receive much promotion, but still.Inever earned out the advance, and the large print run bit me in the ass because there were a lot of returns.”
Hazelwinced. “Isn’tit wild that bookstores can do that?Ican’t think of any other industry where stores can basically take products on consignment and then return them if they don’t sell them.”
Hesighed. “Theprint run for the second book was smaller, which meant even less promotion.Bythe time the third book came out,Iknew the series was dead in the water.Theydeclined the option book in the contract and let me go.Ipitched several more ideas to my agent, but he said thatI’dhave to start over with a new pen name and everything in order to get anywhere because of how poorly the series had sold.”Hefelt as though a weight were pressing down on his shoulders, and a cold, hard ball that he recognized as bitter grief sat in the middle of his chest.
Hazelreached across the table and laid her hand on his. “I’msorry,Adam.That’sbrutal.Publishingis brutal.Ithink sometimes they throw spaghetti at the wall just to see what sticks.Andif you don’t stick, you get brushed aside.ButIreally hope you don’t take it as a reflection on you or your books.Youpersisted and wrote something worthy of an agent’s attention, worthy of an offer from a publisher.That’snot nothing.Mostpeople who want to write don’t make it that far.”Shegave his hand a gentle squeeze, sending warmth pouring through him. “Doyou still write?”
Heshook his head. “No.Thatdream…it didn’t work out.”Heforced a grin to his face. “ButI’mhappy running the hotel.It’smore than enough for me.”
“Doyou miss it?” she asked, tilting her head.
Hepaused, mulling that over.Didhe miss it? “Yeah, sometimes.Imiss the excitement of creating characters.Imiss losing myself in a world of my own creation.Idon’t miss the bullshit of publishing.”
Shesmiled softly. “Iget that.Publishingis definitely bullshit a lot of the time.”
“Butit’s worked out for you,” he said, eyebrow slightly arched.
“Ithas,” she conceded. “ButImight be about to go up in flames, too.”Shegave a little shrug.
“Whatdo you mean?”
Shebit her lip, tracing her finger around a ring of condensation on the table, left by one of the cider glasses. “Afterthe success of my last trilogy, they offered me a lot of money for whateverIwas going to write next.Theydidn’t even care what it was.Theyjust wanted to lock me down, whichIknow sounds great.Theygave me the money and six months to come up with a proposal and a detailed outline.Aftersix months,Ihad nothing, soIhad to ask for an extension.Andthen another one.Andanother one.Finally,Ihad an outline and everything, and as soon asIdid, they started asking for the first hundred pages.Icould feel the tone shifting, you know?Itchanged from supportive to impatient to flat out irritated.Andnow, hereIam, deadline barrelling down on me, andIstill don’t have anything.”Shemet his eyes, and he could see the worry and the stress etched across her pretty face. “WhatifIdon’t have another book in me?Whatif those three books were allI’mcapable of?”
“Whendo you need to submit the first hundred pages?” he asked, wishing desperately that he could help.
“Here’sthe thing.I’veused up all the goodwill that my earlier success earned me.Sonow, ifIdon’t submit the first hundred pages byHalloween, so like…three weeks?Ish?They’regoing to cancel the contract and ask for the advance back.WhichIdon’t have, becauseI’vebeen living off of it for the past couple of years.So,Imight be really, really screwed ifIcan’t figure this out.Like, we’re talking can’t pay my rent, totally broke, financially ruined, writing career over.”
Adamreached across the table, cupping her face and tilting it so he could meet her eyes. “That’snot going to happen.Iknow we’ve just met, butIcan see that you’re a smart woman.Ican see that this matters to you.AndIdon’t believe for a second that you don’t have another book in you.Maybeyou just haven’t found the right story to tell, yet.”
Sheleaned her cheek against his palm, her eyes closing briefly. “Ihope you’re right.”
“I’malways right.Askmy siblings.”
Shelaughed, and something tugged at his heart knowing that he’d pulled that golden sound out of her.Shereached for one of the small glasses of cider and almost knocked it over. “Sorry.I’m…I’mnervous.”
Heshook his head. “Don’tbe sorry,” he said, echoing her words from a few moments ago.Theireyes met and held, firelight dancing around them, but the heatAdamcould feel wasn’t from the flames.Somethingwas building and growing between the two of them.Somethinghe didn’t think he’d be able to ignore, even though he should.
Butfuck, he didn’t want to.
“Whyare you nervous?” he asked, helping himself to more food and more cider.Everythingwas delicious.Heknew he should probably be paying more attention to what he liked and what he wanted to bring into theInn, but he was far more interested inHazel.Howshe looked, what she thought, hearing her laugh.
“Well,” she said, twisting her fingers together and blowing out a breath. “Thisis the first dateI’vebeen on since my divorce.”Hercheeks went pink and her eyes widened. “Imean…if this is a date,Idon’t want to assume…”
“Hazel.”Shetrailed off and searched his face.Hegrinned at her. “Thisis very much a date.”
