Renovation (A Golden Beach Novel) Read online

  Table of Contents

  RENOVATION

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  RENOVATION

  A Golden Beach Novel

  KIM LORAINE

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  RENOVATION

  Copyright©2015

  KIM LORAINE

  Cover Design by Ramona Lockwood

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-61935-962-8

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To Joel — my love, my light, my lobster

  and

  To Samantha — now you can be #Donovated

  whenever you want

  Acknowledgements

  A year ago I signed a contract to write books. I can’t believe I’m here with two published novels to my credit. I am so blessed to have a wonderful support system. Thank you to my family, my husband, and my two littles. I couldn’t do this without you. My parents and in-laws, thank you for always giving your feedback. Aunt Kathie and Uncle Bill, my resident nurse and firefighter resources, you guys helped where no one else could! Brian Paone, thanks for helping pre-edit and telling it like it is. My brother, Tim Cox, thank you for the beautiful music you wrote for each book’s trailer. Samantha McDonald, thanks for loving Donovan almost more than I do. Cynthia Brannam, my editor, you understand how I work and “get” my characters. Thanks for keeping them on track. Everyone at Soul Mate Publishing, thank you for giving Golden Beach a home.

  Lastly, thank you to my readers! I am humbled by you.

  Kim

  Chapter 1

  She was surrounded by yards of pastel taffeta, organza, and satin. As she stepped out of the dressing room stall, in yet another bridesmaid monstrosity, Valerie Peters sighed and plastered a smile on her face.

  “Oh! I love that one,” Abby McConnell crooned from her seat at the bridal salon’s viewing area.

  Valerie studied her appearance in the wall of mirrors. “I look like a bunch of cotton candy!”

  The light pink dress was fitted at the top, showcasing her tiny waist and respectable bust. That wasn’t the problem. The full skirt, covered in layers of fine tulle, was the issue.

  “Hold up that phone so Grace can get a good look at what you’ve put me in, Abby.” Valerie worked hard to keep the exasperation from her voice.

  “Fine. I think it’s lovely, though.”

  Abby pointed the phone so her daughter could see the horrible dress and Valerie smiled as she heard Grace’s laughter.

  “Mom, that dress is ridiculous!”

  Grace may have been halfway across the world, in Braley, England planning her wedding, but Valerie knew her control freak friend would never allow anyone to choose her bridesmaids dresses for her.

  Abby looked taken aback. “These are beautiful. I’ll have you know that this is the exact dress Maxine Hargrove’s daughter chose for her bridesmaids.”

  Valerie bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile. “Grace, what did you have in mind?”

  “I like the color. It kind of has an English rose thing going on. How about something with a similar top but a slimmer and more flowing bottom?”

  Valerie locked eyes with the saleswoman and nodded. Minutes later, she returned with a dress that met Grace’s description almost to the last detail. It fit beautifully, accenting all of Valerie’s best features. The light pink color highlighted her bright blue eyes and set off her fair skin. She beamed at the small video feed of Grace on the phone. “Do you like it?”

  Grace smiled. “Do you?”

  Valerie nodded.

  “Okay, then. That’s it!”

  Abby turned the phone back around to face her and began blubbering. “Honey, I wish you were here with us. Can’t you get married here? Don’t you think Drew would be okay with that?”

  Valerie excused herself to go change clothes while Abby badgered her daughter for the millionth time since her engagement nine months before. The amount of pressure Abby McConnell could place on one human being baffled her. Maybe it was because Grace was an only child, or maybe Valerie’s mom was just very relaxed. Either way, she was thankful she’d been spared that type of family dynamic. Being the oldest of six kids wasn’t easy, but at least her mom had other kids that required her attention.

  When she stepped out of the dressing room, much more comfortable in her jeans and sweater, Abby was still on the phone with Grace. Poor Grace was clearly trying to wrap things up, but her mother was going a mile a minute.

  “Abby? Can I ask Grace something before she goes?”

  Abby turned with a slightly annoyed glance and passed the phone.

  Grace’s relieved expression proved she’d made the right choice by stepping in and interrupting.

  “Have you booked the tickets yet?” Grace asked.

  “Planning on it tomorrow. Thanks for letting Angie tag along.”

  Grace nodded. Valerie smiled when she saw Grace’s fiancé, Drew, enter the frame.

  “Hi, Drew.”

  “Hello there, Val. All set for the wedding?”

  “Looks like it. I’m getting excited. Grace showed me a picture of the chapel you guys chose
. It’s so beautiful.”

  Drew’s face brightened with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He yawned and raked his fingers through his dark hair. “I’d better be off, I’m knackered.”

  She laughed and waved as he passed the phone back to Grace.

  She couldn’t help but overhear his murmured, “Don’t be too long, love,” as he pressed a kiss to the nape of Grace’s neck before he walked away.

  Grace flushed a deep crimson and cleared her throat. Valerie chuckled. “I’d better let you go. Thanks for intervening with the dress.”

  “No problem.” Grace’s smile dimmed. “Is work going okay? I’ve heard Ingram is kind of a hard ass.”

  “It sucks. I’ll tell you more when I get there.” She wanted to tell Grace everything. All about Tyler Ingram, his wandering eyes and inappropriate comments, but this was not the place or time.

  “Call me if you need me. See you in a few months!”

  They hung up before Abby could get her hands back on the phone.

  “I’m sorry, she had to go,” Valerie said as she turned back to the saleswoman.

  As she placed the dress order, she was struck with a thrill of anticipation about going back to Braley for the upcoming wedding. She was excited to see Grace again, but nervous about the prospect of seeing her old flame, Mick. Things hadn’t ended well. He was too intense and possessive for her liking. And his inability to accept the word no . . .

  The saleswoman finished the order and advised her that the dress would arrive in three weeks, with plenty of time for alterations. Valerie was petite; short and tiny. At barely five-foot-one, she always had to have her clothes altered to fit the right way. She was also the smallest in her family. Everyone else towered over her. Her mom called her pocket-sized. She hated it.

  Her phone rang as she walked to her car. Speak of the devil, her mom’s name popped up on Caller I.D. with a screen shot of the two of them at their annual Mother’s Day brunch.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “So, how’d the dress hunt go?”

  She smiled, thinking of the monstrosity she’d avoided with Grace’s help. “Could’ve been worse. Grace picked a gorgeous dress.”

  “I wish I could go with you. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”

  “I’ll try it on for you before I leave.”

  “I was actually calling to see if you could babysit Asher tonight. Dad and I want to go see Angela’s band and the sitter canceled. Riley’s been really anxious lately. I think starting college has his compulsions running rampant, and I don’t trust Brandon enough with him.”

  Valerie choked back a sigh of frustration. She’d been planning on some exercise, then a night of vegging out alone. “Sure. I’m going to swim first, though. Can I be there by six?”

  “Six should be fine. Thanks, honey.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too. Bye.”

  She checked the time, pleased to see she still had a few hours left until the pool closed for the night. The bridal shop was on the outskirts of her hometown of Golden Beach, Virginia; only a ten-minute drive until she could relieve some stress and get the feel of tulle and taffeta off her skin.

  The humid air of the indoor pool coated her in a thin sheen of moisture as she padded carefully toward her favorite lane. The pool was empty, save the teenaged lifeguards on duty and one lone swimmer two lanes away. She watched the man swim, muscles moving his body through the water, cutting a straight line through the lane. She glanced at the big clock on the wall and noted with pleasure the forty-five minutes she had to spare.

  “All right, Peters, make it count,” she muttered under her breath, psyching herself up for the brisk chill of the water.

  The seconds ticked by on the digital clock at the end of the pool and she braced herself. As the minute changed, she filled her lungs and dove, relishing the instant silence that being underwater brought. She loved swimming. Moving through the water brought a sense of peace and grace she never found anywhere else. Her mind cleared and all she thought about were the timing of her breaths and her strokes.

  One, two, breathe.

  One, two, breathe.

  She quickly got herself into a rhythm. Freestyle was her favorite stroke and the most challenging. Ten laps in and she was breathing heavily. Turning on the wall, she changed to backstroke in order to cool down before her next set. Her breaths slowed as she glided through the water, eyes tracking the flags hanging over the water, arms working to keep her pace.

  As she powered down the lane, her mind began to wander. Thoughts of her obligations to friends, family, and the job she’d grown to hate filled her head and distracted her from the importance of counting the flags above. Ingram had been hounding her about nearly everything——emails he’d forgotten to send, phone calls he needed her to field. His latest tirade consisted of a twenty-minute lecture about a mistake she’d made because he’d given her the wrong information.

  “Hey! Hey! Watch out!” She heard the words, even through the water muffling her ears.

  A split second after the warning registered in her brain, her head connected with the side of the pool. Blinding pain split through her skull and caused spots to swim in her vision. She had only a moment to think, Shit, before she slid under the water and blacked out.

  Donovan Miller braced his arms on the side of the pool as he pushed himself out of the water. His limbs trembled slightly from exertion. He reached for his towel and caught sight of the swimmer a few lanes away. She was tiny. Her body moved smoothly through the water, mesmerizing him as she rotated back and forth. He could tell she was an experienced swimmer by the consistency in her strokes. As he toweled off, he admired the curves of her body. Alarm bells rang in his head when he realized she was rapidly approaching the wall and showed no sign of slowing.

  “Hey! Hey! Watch out!” he shouted as he ran toward her lane, hoping desperately to intercept her.

  With a dim thud, her head hit the side of the pool. He watched as her eyes rolled back and she sank under the water.

  “Shit! Shit!”

  Jumping into the swimmer’s lane, he pulled her to the surface, attempting to immobilize her neck as much as possible. He assessed her pulse and checked to make sure her airway wasn’t compromised.

  “Call an ambulance,” he barked at the dumbstruck lifeguards headed in their direction.

  She floated in his arms, eyes closed, bleeding. He took a moment to feel thankful he’d seen the effects of blood mixed with water before. Even a small amount of blood can look like a murder scene when water is added. He held her while they waited for the ambulance. He stroked her hair and checked her pulse again, disconcerted by the feeling of her soft skin under his fingers. Her eyes fluttered open, affording him a concerned glance before she winced in pain.

  “What happened?” Her voice was thin and raspy.

  “Shh, don’t try to move, sweetheart. You slammed into that wall pretty hard.”

  “I . . . mmm . . . lost my count.”

  “It’s gonna be okay.”

  She frowned, eyebrows pulling together. “Can I get up now?”

  “There’s an ambulance on the way. They’ll be here in a minute. We need to wait to move you. I want to get you on a spine board and in a neck brace.” He smiled and locked eyes with her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Valerie. Valerie Peters.” Her face pulled into an adorable frown again. “Don’t call me sweetheart. I don’t even know you.”

  The doors opened at the other end of the pool, flooding the room with flashing lights from the ambulance. Two firefighter-paramedics from Donovan’s crew rushed in, pushing a gurney and waving their hands. Michael Oliver and Tommy Klipper were his buddies—great at their jobs, and men he’d trust with his own life. His chest loosened as he saw them approaching with a
backboard. He didn’t understand what made this situation so different from every other call he’d been on.

  “Miller. Man, what’s her story?”

  “Female, looks around twenty-three. Probable concussion. She collided with the wall head-on. Lost consciousness for at least two minutes. There’s a laceration to the scalp.”

  “All right, help us get her on this and we’ll check her out.”

  They lowered the backboard into the water and he carefully held her still as a lifeguard secured the straps.

  “I’m conscious, you know. You don’t have to talk over me. And I’m twenty-five, not twenty-three, but thanks for that.” Annoyance clouded her tone——a positive sign.

  An involuntary smile turned up his lips. “You’re feisty, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Stop with the sweetheart crap.”

  Klipper laughed as they loaded her and the backboard onto the gurney. “Looks like she’s got your number, man.”

  Donovan chuckled, embarrassed by this little slip of a woman handing him his ass. “Not yet, she doesn’t.” He watched them wheel her out to the waiting ambulance. “You taking her to General?”

  “Yeah. You coming, D?” Klipper called, confusion plain on his face.

  “Gotta make sure she’s okay.”

  Klipper nodded, sharing a look with Michael as they loaded her into the ambulance.

  As he drove to the hospital, Donovan tried to work out where he’d seen Valerie’s sweet face. He certainly hadn’t slept with her, he would have remembered. He smirked as he recalled her strong reaction to him calling her sweetheart. That endearment, paired with his rakish smile, was usually a panty melter. In his defense, she was immobilized and suffering from a head injury. Donovan pulled into a parking space at the ER entrance and strode toward the charge nurse’s desk.