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He reached over, patting her leg. “Go. Relax. Catch some rays and try to enjoy the peace and quiet. Maybe you can get some writing done.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a few ideas I’ve been batting around.”
“So it’s all set. I’ll let Dad know.”
“Okay,” she said, focusing her gaze out the window at the passing scenery.
Thad glanced over at her. “I’m glad things are working out for you, Sis. It must be a huge relief to have Mom and Dad off your back.”
She dropped her feet back to the floor. “They’re still pushing for me to get a regular job, but they’ve eased up a lot since I paid them back for the plane tickets.” She grinned over at him. “I think they were surprised when I received my first royalty check.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, Dad’s eyes were huge when he counted all the zeros.”
She laughed with him, watching the road and the other cars fly by.
~ ~ ~
Nicole sat on the deck, watching the waves crashing against the beach. It was a gorgeous afternoon, and she was enjoying it. Her legs were glistening with suntan lotion, and her toenails were painted a flirty blue, the color of the North Carolina sky. There was a slight breeze blowing, ruffling the hair around her face.
She smiled as she breathed in the sea air, perusing the book in her lap: an advanced reader’s copy of her newest work of fiction. Audrey sent it to her, along with notes on her current work in progress. She also wanted an update on the Reece Collins story.
Nicole grimaced as she thought of it. The manuscript was nearly done. All that was needed was the happily ever after, but she was having trouble picturing it. Her mind was drawing a blank.
Like Reece, her hero said all the right words and did all the right things to keep her heroine in his thrall, but Nicole couldn’t seem to find the want to end the story. There had to be something more.
She stood up, stretching her arms above her head and beginning her afternoon walk toward the dunes. Since her arrival a week ago, she’d gotten into the habit of getting up early in the morning to take a run down the beach, passed the pier, and back again. She’d then shower, eat breakfast, and sit in front of the computer to tap the day away. She was getting a lot of work done as the ideas flowed from her head to the computer like wine into a glass.
She’d then putter away the afternoon, reading or walking the beach, and sometimes going for a swim if the water wasn’t too rough. She’d end the day with a sedate walk to the dunes and back, searching for shells along the way.
She heard something coming up behind her but wasn’t worried. Tugger, her English bulldog, had decided to tag along.
“Hello, Tug, did you think I forgot about you?” He snorted, huffed, and panted alongside her. “I’ll fix us something to eat when we get back. How does that sound?” He replied with a grunt and shuffle, grunt and shuffle.
Nicole kept walking, even when Tugger would stop every ten steps for a rest. Bulldogs were awesome creatures with big personalities, but they were lazy as hell. They weren’t the most energetic of breeds, but they were loyal and constant with bad attitudes. She and Tugger had gone toe to toe quite a few times.
“Hey, Nicole, how are you?”
She turned to her nearest neighbor, waving. “I’m good, Mrs. Campbell. How are you?”
“We’re all well. How’re your folks?”
“They’re keeping busy.”
“Will they be coming down to join you?”
“I’m not sure. I never know what they’re doing until they’re doing it.”
Her neighbor laughed. “Tell them I said hello.”
“I will.” She kept trudging along the beach with Tugger at her side.
When they reached the dunes, she stood in the surf, staring out at the ocean before turning back the way they came. She stopped, bending to search for seashells to add to her collection. She couldn’t find any decent ones tonight. She knelt, scooping at the wet sand and watching water instantly fill the hole. She scooped again, watching as the little hermit crabs tried to escape.
In an unexpected burst of energy, Tugger began digging with her. Soon wet sand was flying everywhere.
Just before she gave up for the night, Tugger’s nail pinged on a shell. She pushed him out of the way before he could damage it. It looked like a clam shell or maybe a scallop shell. She couldn’t remember the exact name for it, but it had a beautiful pink and glimmering sheen.
It was still complete; there were no chips in it except for a hole on top with the shape of a heart. It was perfect. She closed her eyes, picturing the end of the story. Her hero and heroine standing on the beach when he gives her this shell with the heart in the middle.
