Sunshine Beach (Ten Beach Road Series) - Softcover

9780425274484: Sunshine Beach (Ten Beach Road Series)
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In this brand-new summer read by the USA Today bestselling author of The House on Mermaid Point, three women join forces to bring a historic seaside hotel back to life...
 
There’s nothing that a fresh coat of paint and a few glasses of wine can’t fix...
 
After losing their life savings in a Ponzi scheme, Maddie, Avery, and Nikki have banded together to make the most of what they have left, using their determination, ingenuity, guts, and a large dose of elbow grease. It’s Maddie’s daughter Kyra who stumbles across a once glorious beachfront hotel that has fallen into disrepair. The opportunity to renovate this seaside jewel is too good to pass up—especially when they come up with the idea of shooting their own independent television show about the restoration. What could possibly go wrong?
 
Everything. With the cameras rolling, Maddie’s second-chance romance with her all-too-famous new boyfriend gets complicated, Avery struggles with grief over the loss of her mother, and Nikki’s reluctance to commit to the man who loves her could leave her to face the biggest challenge of her life. Even the hotel seems to be against them, when their renovation uncovers a decades-old unsolved murder which just might bring their lives tumbling down all over again...

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About the Author:
Wendy Wax, a former broadcaster, is the author of twelve novels, including A Week at the Lake, While We Were Watching Downton Abbey, The House on Mermaid Point, Ocean Beach, and Ten Beach Road.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof***

Copyright © 2016 Wendy Wax

One

Madeline Singer was fairly certain that the number of former suburban housewives who went on to have relationships with rock stars was too small to be statistically measurable. Which might be why she felt like Cinderella that May evening as William Hightower handed her out of his boat and onto the dock at the Lorelei Restaurant and Cabana Bar. If, that was, Cinderella had to color her hair, suck in her stomach, and wore a size too large to make America’s Next Top Model.

Perched on the edge of U.S. 1, the multitiered Islamorada landmark served good, basic food, poured potent drinks, and drew a mostly laid-back crowd for its nightly sunset celebrations. Tables surrounded a thatched hut of a stage and spilled out onto a half-moon of beach where you could eat with your bare feet buried in the sand and your eyes pinned to a truly spectacular sunset that played out over the Florida Bay.

Remnants of sunlight glinted off the black hair lightly threaded with gray that brushed William’s shoulders and cast his sharply angled face into shadow. “Should be interesting to see what kind of reaction we get to the new song,” he said as he retrieved his guitar case from the boat and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

“Everybody on Mermaid Point loved it,” she reminded him. “You got a standing ovation.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not forget Mermaid Point is surrounded by water. The residents are a captive audience.”

Maddie laughed but did not concede the point. She may not be a musician, but she knew a great song when she heard one. Will had written “Free Fall” in September not long after she and the rest of the Do Over crew had finished turning William Hightower’s private island into what was supposed to have been a high-end bed-and-breakfast but which he’d turned into a sober living facility. It was the first song he’d written after more than a decade unable to make music at all. The first he’d ever written without the benefit of drugs or alcohol.

“And not that I don’t appreciate it,” he added. “But I don’t think you’re completely objective.”

“True,” she said. “But I was a William Hightower fan way before I ever met you.” That had been back when he was building a name as a southern rocker, and Wasted Indian had been climbing to the top of the charts. “So let’s not go questioning my musical taste.”

His dark eyes creased with amusement. The spider’s web of lines at their corners attested to all he’d been through. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then headed for the stage.

Maddie leaned against a vacant post not far from the bar that afforded an unobstructed view over the already packed tables that fanned out from the stage. A waitress handed her a glass of Pinot Noir, which she accepted gladly. She sipped it as Will and the musicians he’d cobbled together set up. Her eyes scanned the stage, the crowd, and the sun that hung in midair poised for its swan dive into the bay. She had only one more day with Will before she’d drive up to Bella Flora, the house that she, Nicole Grant, and Avery Lawford had nursed back to life and which had now become home. There they’d have to figure out what, if anything, they could do about the show they’d created, lost control of, and then quit so publicly.

Conversation ceased as William stepped up to the microphone. All eyes, including hers, fastened on the man who had once hung in poster form on her bedroom wall. William Hightower might be sixty-two, but he’d come out of rehab a little over a year ago for what he’d vowed would be the last time, looking hot as hell.

With a salt breeze and a pinkening sky for background, Will laid out his losses with a pain-roughened voice. He’d lost his younger brother and the woman who’d borne his son to drugs and excess. The pain had only mounted as he disappeared into every vial and bottle he could find in an attempt to hide from the hurt. Tonight he hid nothing, singing with his eyes closed, his fingers lithe on his guitar strings, his body taut with emotion. The crowd’s response was equally visceral. When he finished, Maddie’s were not the only cheeks wet with tears. She’d expected that. What she hadn’t anticipated was the naked hunger that shone in the eyes of his female fans.

He sent her a smile over the heads of the women who mobbed him after the set, and she managed to smile back even as she struggled to tamp down her jealousy and uncertainty.

She’d learned over the last months to stop apologizing for her body or even trying to hide it from him, though the stomach sucking was a reflex with a mind of its own. He insisted he wasn’t comparing her to anyone; that she, a fifty-one-year-old mother of two and grandmother of one, turned him on just the way she was.

But if Will’s mind didn’t stray to all the women who’d come before her or to the tsunami of female adoration that was currently washing over him, Maddie’s did. A lifetime spent as a suburban housewife prepared a woman for a lot of things. A relationship with a man like William Hightower wasn’t one of them.

“You were fabulous,” she said on the boat ride back to Mermaid Point. “Could you feel how the audience reacted to ‘Free Fall’? God, they loved it. They were hanging on every word.”

“Yeah.” Steering with his right hand, he pulled her onto his lap with his left. “I didn’t expect to get the same high, you know, performing straight. But it’s a definite rush. Kind of like a shot of adrenaline to the heart.”

His body was hard and warm against hers. She could practically feel that adrenaline coursing through him. When they reached the house, Will emptied his pockets onto the bedroom dresser and began to shuck his clothes.

“I’m way too wired to go to bed,” he said pulling on swim trunks. “Want to come for a swim?”

She’d become used to taking off her clothes in front of him, had been unable to argue his unfailingly positive physical reaction to her, but his reception tonight had proved that while she might have tamped down her insecurities, she hadn’t shed them completely.

“I think I’ll stay here and start getting my things together.” Unable to meet his eyes, she glanced at the items he’d pulled from his pockets. There were two cocktail napkins with names and phone numbers, one of them written in bright red lipstick. A crumbled photo of . . . “Is that a naked woman?” She moved toward the dresser for a closer look. “I didn’t know anyone owned a Polaroid camera any more.”

“Hmmm?” Will asked as he reached for a towel.

“This.” She held the photo up by one corner. “This naked photo.”

He turned to look at the photo Maddie held between her fingertips. He snorted. “Given who I think shoved that in my pocket, I doubt it’s remotely recent.”

“Someone shoved a naked photo of herself in your pocket,” she repeated dully.

“Um-hm.”

“And this is . . . ?” She scooped up a wisp of red lace, dropping it when she realized what it was. “A thong.” She could hear the note of disbelief in her voice.

“Seems to be.” Will shrugged and smiled. “You sure you don’t want to come for a swim? It’s past resident curfew. We’d have the pool and the hot tub to ourselves.” He shot her a wink.

“I’m looking at a thong that a complete stranger placed in your pocket.” A thong that she doubted would make it over one of her thighs. “And all you’re thinking about is going for a swim. With me.”

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. “What else should I be thinking about?” He asked this as if every female at the Lorelei that night hadn’t spent the evening mentally undressing him and would gladly swim naked to Mermaid Point, like some Sexual Seal Team Six, if invited.

Maddie hadn’t dated in close to thirty years and she’d never dated a rock star, but she was pretty certain that freaking out over groupies or calling attention to all the women William could have sex with instead of her was not a good idea. She shrugged as casually as she could. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in this situation before.” She looked at but did not touch the thong.

“It’s nothing,” he said tucking the towel under one arm. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt and she couldn’t help watching the play of muscle as he shrugged again. “It just goes with the territory. You walk up on a stage and . . . seriously, Maddie, there’s no accounting for what some people will do or assume.”

“Right.”

His eyes held hers, but he didn’t argue the point. “I’m just going to do a few laps. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Maddie knew him well enough to know that a few laps could be anywhere from fifty to infinity. Swimming had been his go-to stress reliever during and after rehab, and he typically swam twice a day out of habit, she thought, as much as necessity. She stood out on the balcony and watched him slip into the pool; it and the ocean beyond glimmered in the moonlight. Only a few years ago she’d dreamt of empty nesting only to have that nest filled with an aging mother-in-law, an unexpectedly pregnant daughter, and an unemployed husband who’d lost everything, including his job, to Malcolm Dyer’s Ponzi scheme. Two desperate years of hanging on and staying afloat had followed. Now here she stood on the bedroom balcony of William Hightower’s private island, an outcome she’d never imagined in her wildest dreams.

Inside she began to empty her drawers, carefully avoiding the items that still littered Will’s dresser. Then she got undressed, slid into bed, and lay listening to the rhythmic splash of his flutter kick. Somewhere in the middle of lap thirty-five she finally fell asleep.


Two

Avery Lawford pushed a stray curl off her forehead. Eyes half closed she stumbled toward the kitchen relying on her nose to lead her toward the all-important coffeepot.

“Here you go.” A mug of coffee, warm and wondrous, was placed in her hands.

She breathed in its dark, delicious aroma, then took a first sip. Her eyes opened another notch as she moaned with pleasure. “You are a fine human being.”

“And a careful one,” Chase Hardin said as she took another sip. “I know how to read warning labels.” His finger skimmed across the T-shirt she’d slept in. A gift from Kyra Singer, who knew her well, and that read, I Drink Coffee for Your Protection.

She could feel his eyes on her as she took another sip. She sighed with pleasure as the liquid caffeine began to rouse and warm her.

“Okay, guys, I think it’s safe to go about your business now,” Chase said.

A utensil clattered against a hard surface. The refrigerator door opened. After an especially heavenly sip she opened her eyes all the way and took in the kitchen. Which looked as if a hurricane had swept through it. Chase’s father Jeff sat at the kitchen table, his walker beside him, the morning paper folded to the sports page. Chase’s son Josh was in the process of wolfing down a bowl of cereal while his brother Jason helped himself to eggs from a pan on the stove.

Muzzy with sleep Avery blinked away a vision of Deirdre Morgan, the mother who’d abandoned her for decades and then reappeared without warning, standing at that very stove demonstrating her newly acquired culinary skills.

“I’m going to drop the guys at school, then take Dad to his doctor’s appointment. If he’s got the energy I’ll take him to the job site with me.” Chase now ran what had once been their fathers’ construction business. Avery had been working with him since she’d come back from Mermaid Point. Where the mother she’d only just forgiven for abandoning her had crumpled at her feet and died of a brain aneurysm. Avery looked down into the swirl of creamed coffee, blinking away tears as she tried to dislodge the image. Her hand shook as she raised the cup to her lips.

“If the day ever comes that I’d rather sit at home like an old fart than visit one of our construction sites, I’ll let you know,” Jeff snapped.

Chase nodded to his father but made no comment. Pulling a crumpled bakery bag from the back of a cabinet, he carried it to the table. “I managed to save you exactly one glazed donut,” he said as he placed the bag in front of Avery. “Next time you’re going to have to hide them better.”

She extracted the donut from the bag and pinched off a bite knowing as she began to chew the sugary confection that if Deirdre were there, she’d be lobbying for Avery to trade the donut for a fat-free yogurt.

“Have you guys got your lunches packed?” Chase asked. He was running full throttle while she was still trying to get up to speed.

Mouths full, both boys grunted in the affirmative.

“Is there anything I’m supposed to sign, deliver, or do that I don’t already know about?” Chase, who had a lot of years as a single father under his belt, prodded.

They shook their heads.

“Are you sure?”

There were two identical eye rolls. The chewing didn’t stop.

“What do you have going on today?” Chase asked Avery.

“Hmmm?” She downed the last of her coffee, managed another bite of the donut, and blinked up at him. “I’m going to finish those sketches for the O’Reilly addition. And I had some ideas for the spec home on Davis Island.” She enjoyed being a part of the company their fathers had built. Being busy helped, but it hadn’t eliminated the aching sense of loss she still felt for the mother she’d lived so much of her life without. Nor did it erase her worry over whether Do Over could be salvaged. And if they did salvage the show? What would it be without Deirdre, who’d put her personal stamp on every property they’d touched?

“Do you have time to help me pick up the boys’ Explorer from the repair shop later?”

“Um, sure.” She took another sip of coffee, willing the caffeine into her bloodstream, and her thoughts back to the present. “I’m wide open today. Tomorrow I’m going to Bella Flora—Maddie and Nikki should be there in time for dinner. I thought I’d stay there at least through the weekend. We’ve got to figure out our next moves.” She swallowed. Deirdre’s absence would be even more palpable when they were all under one roof again. Especially Bella Flora’s.

“Are you okay?” Chase asked quietly as he took her empty cup and carried it to the coffeepot to refill it.

“Yes,” she said automatically. “Thanks. I . . .” Her voice trailed off as she accepted the coffee, cupping the warm mug between both hands.

She was once again blinking back tears as the boys put their empty bowls in the sink. Chase took his father’s plate, added it to the stack, and reached to open the dishwasher.

Avery waved him away. “Go ahead. You’ll be late. I can load the dishwasher.”

“Thanks,” he said pecking her on the cheek. “I’ll text you when the Explorer is ready.”

At her nod he shooed the boys out the door, then hovered at his father’s side as Jeff maneuvered the walker through the kitchen. A few minutes later the garage door rumbled shut.

She was sorry to see them go. Sorrier still when the quiet that she would have once treasured, descended. Alone was not good. Alone in the silence was even worse.

“Get over yourself,” she muttered as she stood and carried her coffee cup to the sink. As s...

"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.

  • PublisherBerkley
  • Publication date2016
  • ISBN 10 0425274489
  • ISBN 13 9780425274484
  • BindingPaperback
  • Number of pages432
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