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“Oh, that looks really pretty, Sloane. You should totally get it.” Bree looked at her, suddenly reverent, and she slipped the daisy hat from the crown of her honey-colored waves. The sensation of tight, incredible breathlessness he’d felt before in the living room invaded Gavin’s senses once again, only this time he didn’t fight it.
After all, if he was going to be in love with her, he might as well go all in there, too.
* * *
Sloane padded down the hallway,her bare feet shushing over the cottage floorboards like a secret as she headed toward Bree’s room. She knew that Bree was fine, of course—the kid was made of tougher stuff than most of the adults Sloane had met—but occasionally Bree fell asleep with her lights on or her music app going. It wouldn’t really hurt to double-check, just in case. Plus, she could use a break from the relentlessly blank pages of legal paper spread across the breakfast bar, just waiting for a Greece book outline to fill them up.
Fat chance of that happening. God, her writer’s block on that book could give Stonehenge a run for its money right about now.
“Bree? You awake?” Sloane tapped lightly on the glossy white frame outlining Bree’s door, tipping her ear toward the cracked-open panel for a response. The soft tones of music being played through AirPods were the sole reply, and Sloane broke into a knowing smile as she poked her head into the room with caution.
Sure enough, Bree was sprawled, out cold, over her twin bed. Her quilt covered more of the floor than her body, and Sloane bent to lift the patchwork edge from the cherrywood boards. Bree’s face was soft with the telltale mark of deep sleep, and the pink flannel pajamas that Gavin had bought her on their shopping excursion a few days ago threatened to swallow her whole. Sloane’s smile made itself comfortable on her lips as she drew the quilt over Bree’s slumbering frame. Considering how fast preteen girls grew, she’d be shocked if the pajamas made it to the end of the year without becoming high-waters.
She froze in place, mid-tuck. Since when did she have a clue what the growth curve of a thirteen-year-old looked like? Four weeks’ worth of not endangering one kid didn’t exactly earn her the Caregiver of the Year award. She might do just fine helping out with essay questions and rides to the library or the movies, but that was a far cry from actually thinking she was any good at this.
Judging by the two missed calls from her mother that she had accidentally-on-purpose not yet returned this week, Sloane still wasn’t much of a candidate for good daughterhood, despite Gavin’s arguments to the contrary.
And yet, something about the way he continually trusted her with Bree’s well-being kept rising up in her mind, daring her in quiet moments like this one to believe that she might be good enough anyway.
“You’re losing it,” she muttered and silenced Bree’s music app with a flick of her wrist. After clicking off the light, she retraced her footsteps down the hall. Her stomach took a swan dive at the sight of the blank pages gracing the granite countertop, ones with headings that readHero’s Internal ConflictandSetting: Research and Description.
She picked up the latter with a frown. Not since she’d started writing had she had a book fight her so hard on its way out. Short of being smack in the middle of Athens, Sloane had done everything she could think of to bring the beautiful Greek city to the forefront of her imagination. But the harder she tried, the more difficult it became, to the point that she was starting to feel like one of those salmon that fought tooth and nail just to get inches upstream.
Her only hope was to fight the good fight, the only way she knew how. Either that, or she was going to be eaten by a bear.
Sloane caught sight of her propped-open laptop on the kitchen table, and it stirred equal parts frustration and longing in the space beneath her rib cage. If the Greece book counted as a dry spell, then the unnamed project spilling out of her was a total deluge. Even now, the ideas called to her, begging to be splashed over the screen. As much as she’d thought she could get one book out of the way to pave the path for the other, she was starting to think that maybe there was more to it than that. She was beginning to believe the book that was taking shape in front of her was good enough to pitch, despite the fact that it was the complete opposite of what her editor had asked for.
On pure impulse, Sloane’s fingers found her laptop keyboard, and she tapped the screen to life with a quick keystroke. If she could compose a smart enough proposal and put some extra polish on that first chapter, Belinda would have no choice but to see how good this project was. Okay, so it wasn’t Sloane’s usual fare, and yes, they’d have to work out a new spin on the marketing, but in the end, it would be worth it. Something about this book just sang, and while her others had certainly been strong, this one just feltright.
As if the ideas coming from within her really were good enough.
She angled the cursor over the icon for her e-mail, gaining momentum as she clicked. God, she couldn’t wait to tell Gavin about this. Of course, she’d probably have to endure some good-natured ribbing over not believing in herself in the first place, but that was fine. The look on his face when she told him she’d really pitched the book would be worth it.
Sloane’s computer dinged with an unread e-mail message, and she nearly laughed out loud when she clicked on her inbox and saw Belinda’s name flashing in bold, blue letters.
“Must be kismet,” she told the screen, clicking on the message with happy abandon. But what she found made her mouth go dry before she got past the second sentence.
Dear Sloane,
I hope this finds you well and hard at work. I need a copy of your Greece proposal ASAP—marketing is dying to get their hands on it. Also, our sales rep hinted to one of our biggest accounts that you had your nose to the grindstone on another Europe book, and they’ve expressed interest in some major placement within their stores, as well as hosting a series of high-profile signings. You are a fan favorite! Not that I’m surprised, of course. But I’d like to get moving on your contract, so the sooner I get that proposal, the sooner we can dive right in.
Best,
Belinda
P.S. Justbetween you and me, I told Martin you’d decided to head to Greece to write another book for us, and he’s thrilled.
Sloane liftedher hands to her mouth, trying to swallow the bitter combination of unease and dread starting to form within her. Martin Abernathy, whom she had met exactly once in her tenure with Morton House Publishers, was thrilled about her Greece book? According to his reputation, the serious-as-a-heart-attack editor in chief didn’t even crack a polite smile at the biggest of sales, and yet he wasthrilledover the prospect of her project? And she’d barely been a blip on the big chains’ radar when her first book had been released. Now they wanted her for book signings in big cities?
All for a novel she hadn’t written a single word of, despite putting almost a month’s worth of effort into trying. Oh, God, there was no way Sloane could sell Belinda on the idea of this other story now, no matter how seamlessly it was falling out of her brain and onto the screen.
It made no difference how much she wanted to stay in Pine Mountain, to sit right here in the cottage with Gavin and Bree where she felt so completely at home for the first time in…well, ever, and write this book of her heart. All the pure, uncut happiness she felt when she talked about it with Gavin—hell, when she was just near Gavin—didn’t matter when held up against the fact that she was going to be jobless and homeless and maybe jobless again in a couple of weeks if she didn’t get her act together.
She needed the Greece book, and she needed itnow.
Sloane pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, using her free hand to close the e-mail from Belinda. She slid her mouse across the screen, and it only took a handful of clicks to pull up her favorite travel planning website. Locating a one-way flight to Athens proved all too easy, although her usual giddy anticipation at planning a trip was conspicuously absent, replaced instead by the dread bottoming out in her gut.
Her hand shook over the mouse, causing the tiny white arrow to waver over theConfirm Flight Nowbutton. But all the self-belief in the universe wasn’t going to get her out of this, and to be honest, Gavin really had given her too much credit. She just wasn’t cut out for sticking around, not even when sticking around felt good, right down to her pedicure. It was time to face what she’d known was coming all along. Her time in Pine Mountain was drawing to a bittersweet close.
