Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance by Jean Oram Read Free Book Online Page A

have one?"
    Nash smiled, his teeth straight and narrow.
"Not so secret with me. I want to move up the chain."
    "Oh, right." She felt silly forgetting that
maybe other people's dreams weren't so secret and under wraps—kind
of like hers.
    "How about you?"
    "Not so secret either. I want a family."
    "Kids?"
    She nodded.
    "What else?" he asked.
    "What do you mean?" Her
back muscles tightened. Don't tell me
another man is going to tell me there's more to life than a good,
fulfilling job in a small town and a table crowded with people you
love.
    "There's got to be something else, right?"
There was a tentative uncertainty in his question. "I mean, you
like to help people." She gave a noncommittal shrug, waiting to
hear him out. "I can see it when you work with your patients.
That's one of the reasons I know you're going to rock this outreach
thing. Not only will it be fulfilling, but it'll look great on your
resumé."
    "And fill a community need," she
reminded.
    "And heck, maybe you'll discover your dream
is to open a private outreach or become one of those consultants
we'll see today. They've got to make some serious coin."
    "I'd miss my CCPs."
    "Your what?"
    "Continuing care patients." How could she
explain that working with the elderly settled that scared feeling
she had inside? How it gave her hope seeing people live long,
fulfilling lives.
    Plain and simple, she couldn't. She'd
managed to explain it to Oz once, but that's because he knew her.
He knew her history, her whole life, and could fill in the pieces
that even she didn't understand. To explain everything from start
to finish to an outsider felt like too much work. Besides, she
liked how he saw her in a different light without all her history
and baggage. He just saw her as she stood today. Nobody else in
Blueberry Springs would have suggested that she open an outreach
and fulfill the area's need for outpatient recreational therapy.
But he did.
    And she liked that. A lot. And she didn't
want to spoil it.
    "But you never know," she said. "Keep
throwing ideas at me. I liked the first one!" She grinned and
admired the way his quads flexed under their denim covering as he
shifted gears to climb the last big hill before leaving the
mountains. Two days of blissful peace away from the gossip and
advice in Blueberry Springs.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
    Beth shifted from foot to foot while waiting
outside the trailer she'd called home for almost two and a half
years, waiting for her courage to catch up with her. She hesitated
with her fist raised against the inner wood door. It was so odd to
knock.
    Tucking the dirt bike magazine under her arm
she adjusted the screen door and knocked. After her fifth knock the
trailer door swung inward revealing Oz, groggy and unshaven. She
used to find his morning look sexy, but there was something off
about his appearance that made her pause.
    "Hey," she said. "I brought this for you."
She handed him the magazine.
    He gave her a small smile. She gave a little
bounce on the balls of her feet. She couldn't wait to tell him all
about the outreach program session she'd attended with Nash.
Between the speaker and Nash, they'd convinced her she should start
a program. The organizer had handed her everything she needed—it
was like being handed a program in a box and all she had to do was
unpack it over the next couple of months.
    "I thought we agreed we'd check in on
weekends only," he asked, leaning against the door. He looked
concerned and as though he was about to do something he knew he'd
regret.
    She paused and said carefully, "I missed the
weekend and wanted to talk to you about something."
    He let the door swing open and moved to the
kitchen just off the entry. Beth blinked as she took in the
disheveled room. Beer cans and empty pizza boxes. Poker night had
obviously been reinstated. She sat at the table across from Oz and
he leaned back in his chair and watched her, arms crossed like he
was protecting himself. Feeling self-conscious in