Amy Vastine - What a Girl Wants

They’d reached the bottom floor. The elevator doors opened and they made their way to the exit. Somehow Travis still managed to look like he’d just stepped off the pages of GQ.

‘I thought those who can’t, can at least talk about it,’ he said. ‘Turns out it’s harder than people like you make it look.’

‘You did fine,’ Summer said in an attempt to be polite.

‘I was terrible,’ he replied. She couldn’t really argue with his self-assessment. She almost felt bad for him … until he opened the door for her and took note of the very dry parking lot, adding, ‘I don’t know, Weather Girl, I think you might be losing your touch.’

Summer couldn’t hold back her grin as the thunder rumbled overhead. She opened her umbrella and stepped outside. The skies let go, raindrops sending tiny dust clouds into the air when they hit the pavement. ‘What was that?’ she asked from under the protection of her big red umbrella. She cupped her ear with her free hand. ‘I can’t hear you over the rain and thunder.’

‘Aren’t you going to offer to walk me to my car?’ he shouted as she backed away from him.

‘I think you might be losing your touch, Ladykiller,’ she said, picking up the pace. ‘Good night!’

It wasn’t as good as spotting a tornado, but watching Travis Lockwood get soaked to the bone as he ran to his fancy black sports car kind of made Summer’s day.

Dear Reader,

Inspired by a friend’s love of storm-chasing shows, I wrote this story centered around a woman who loves two things: her family and the weather. Family is forever. Weather is predictable. Love, on the other hand, isn’t. There’s no way to tell when it’s coming or how long it’s going to stick around. Not to mention it can be more dangerous than a tornado when your heart is on the line.

I absolutely loved bringing the characters of The Weather Girl to life. So much so that I often wonder what Summer would think of the weather reports I see on television. Summer and Travis had to ride out some storms to get to their happy ending, but you don’t get a rainbow without a little rain!

I hope you enjoy the story and maybe fall in love with the weather girl, too! Come visit me at www.amyvastine.blogspot.com.

Amy Vastine

The Weather Girl

Amy Vastine

www.millsandboon.co.uk

has been plotting stories in her head for as long as she can remember. It’s been a dream come true that people wanted to read them once she wrote them down. She lives outside Chicago with her high school sweetheart turned husband, three children and puppy dog. She loves to connect with readers on her Facebook author page, www.facebook.com/amyvastineauthor, and Twitter, @vastine7.

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To my mom, who always believed in me. Words cannot express how much I appreciate and love you.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER ONE

“IT’S ANOTHER SCORCHER out there, Abilene. All across the Big Country, we’re looking at upper nineties today and throughout the rest of the week. There’s no relief from this drought in sight.”

Summer shut off the radio and shook her head. Had no one ever heard of lower troposphere instability? Once again, the responsibility to set everyone straight fell solidly on her shoulders.

Storm waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs. She gave him a pat on his big, block head. “You can tell it’s going to rain today. Can’t you, boy?” The giant black Lab wagged his tail and barked once in agreement. When she was growing up, Summer’s daddy always told her animals had a sixth sense about weather. It often made her wonder if she was born with some genetic abnormality that made her more like her trusted pet than the rest of the human race.

She sprinkled a little fish food in Isaac’s tank and bid Storm farewell, snagging her umbrella on the way out the door. She’d need it today, despite what the weatherman on the radio said. Summer Raines always knew when it was going to rain, no matter what the computer models predicted or how cloudless the sky looked. She could feel it.

* * *

KLVA WAS BUZZING with an unusual energy when Summer arrived at the station. The new sports anchor had started today and everyone was giddy about it. The men were grouped together, enthusiastically reminiscing about game-changing plays and state championships. The women giggled and postured. Hair was big and clothes were tight today. The new guy was somewhat of a legend in these parts, born and raised in Sweetwater, and he played ball for Texas. The man’s broadcasting experience was all on the other side of the microphone. He had held countless press conferences, only not as the press. Nobody else seemed to care his résumé consisted of nothing but football stats. For whatever reason, he was a big deal. A very big deal.

Ken Collins, the station director, believed this addition to the news team was going to give KLVA’s ratings a major boost. Summer tried to focus on the positive. The former sports guy had been forced into early retirement. Bud Lawson gave her the creeps. His suits smelled like cigarettes and cheese and he thought it was completely appropriate to tell Summer he’d fantasized about her in a Dallas Cowboys cheerleading outfit. Even more disturbing, he’d attempted to pat her behind more than once. Summer spent a ridiculous amount of time and energy making sure her back was never turned to Bud.

Ken came to a dead stop in front of Summer and the umbrella resting against her desk. “When did you say it was going to rain? Richard didn’t say that this morning. He said sunny and ninety. No rain. I washed my car on the way here.”

She shrugged and Ken threw his hands up. “I only got the feeling before leaving the house,” she explained. “Computer models say I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure the winds are shifting.”

“Great,” he said with a huff. “Can you text me the next time you get a feeling after the morning forecast? Please?”

“Will do, boss.” Summer smiled as he shouted that they’d all better be ready for the staff meeting in ten minutes. Not everyone believed in Summer’s abilities, but Ken and the leather interior of his convertible had learned the hard way that she often knew more than the average meteorologist.

“What are you wearing?” Rachel Crow came zooming across the newsroom, headed straight for Summer’s desk. She was the station’s most popular news anchor, beautiful and polished. On the air, she had the sweetest Southern disposition. Behind the scenes, however, she was a bit more...tenacious.

Summer looked down at her favorite silk top. It reminded her of Texas bluebonnets and matched the color of her eyes. “Clothes?”