Amber Leigh Williams - Married One Night

“Gerald Leighton,” Adrian said again, a bit louder this time. “The fantasy writer. He’s an international bestseller. He’s won all kinds of awards in the genre, not to mention for writing in general. He writes the Rex Flynn series.”

“Who?”

“Rex Flynn.” Adrian made an impatient noise. “Come on, don’t you read?”

“Not really,” Olivia admitted. “Just the occasional romance novel, heavy on the smut. Short ones—I don’t have time for anything else.”

Adrian raked a hand through the red cap of her hair. “Oy. Okay, Rex Flynn is this amazing hero who has this weird but really awesome time-traveling ability that just gets him into trouble at first but eventually becomes useful for rescuing people, spying and, of course, saving the world. But the best part about it is the love story. In book one, Rex accidentally travels to the fifteenth-century Highlands where he meets the love of his life, Janet MacMillian, and so starts this epic love story that continues throughout the rest of the series.”

“ You read love stories?” Olivia asked doubtfully. “Since when?”

“I started out reading the series because Dad suggested it for the history and time-travel elements. But it’s more than all that. There’s intrigue and action and magic and ancient history and love and even a little bit of smut.... Oh, it’s just perfection! He is the best writer. And he’s, like, a multimillionaire.”

“No, he’s not,” Olivia said automatically.

“No, really. He’s an actual multimillionaire. He gets seven-figure advances and he does these book signings where people line up for city blocks just to meet him. They’re talking even about doing a Rex Flynn movie. Liv, this is a big deal. He, Gerald Leighton, is a big deal .”

“Calm down,” Olivia ordered. She put her hands on her head and shook it in denial. “I can’t process this right now. I just can’t. You’re right. We’ll talk more in the morning. Postcoffee.”

“Liv,” Adrian said, snagging Olivia’s arm as she opened the front door. “Can I meet him? Do you think it would be okay if I met him. I mean, meet him again... when I’m not drunk? Maybe he could sign a couple of my hardbacks or something?”

Olivia took one good look at Adrian’s animated expression and shook her head. “For Christ’s sake, Adrian. Get a hold of yourself.” She walked out of the cottage, back into the rain.

If the man had Adrian Carlton of all people beaming sunshine and rainbows, Gerald Leighton was going to be far more trouble than Olivia had initially thought.

* * *

THE BREAKFAST OLIVIA’S cousin, Briar Browning Savitt, served for guests and family at Hanna’s Inn was not to be missed.

Olivia walked around the tavern and the adjourning shops facing South Mobile Street. She crossed the gravel parking lot to the proud white three-story bed-and-breakfast that had been owned by the Brownings for decades. She saw her cousin’s small sedan, the four-by-four owned by Briar’s husband, Cole, who used the brawny vehicle to haul landscaping materials and such, Adrian’s ten-year-old SUV and what looked to be a luxury sportster Olivia could only guess was Gerald Leighton’s rental car.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had shown up for Briar’s cinnamon rolls. Frowning at the blue skies scant on clouds today, Olivia mused that if not for the wet and battered leaves littering the ground and the tangled state of her cousin’s climbing roses and jasmine bushes, one might never have known that the coast had had a very near miss with a Category 3 hurricane. And despite the fact that it was late October, the brush with El Niño had left the Eastern Shore warm enough for it to be mid-May.

Nobody could ever be prepared for Gulf Coast weather. It changed on a dime, rain or shine. In summer, residents suffered through weeks of dry, dusty drought followed by a month-and-a-half straight of coastal flooding. Halloween was on the horizon and Olivia was wearing flip-flops.

She smiled. The unpredictability of the weather was one thing most people around these parts tolerated. Olivia, a creature of unpredictability herself, thrived in it.

She bounded up the steps to the inn’s glass-front entry doors. The bells jangled as she opened them and the smell of cinnamon and home struck her.

Olivia followed the voices coming from the back of the house. She made her way down the hall, past the fancy dining room full of antiques and the living room with its plush, half-moon sofa and flat-screen television. Here brilliant streams of sunlight beamed unfiltered from the connected sunroom, which overlooked Briar’s gardens. Cole’s trim, green yard tumbled down to the rocky, sandy shore and the small dock with its Adirondack chairs and chaise longues.

The bay was still choppy but had settled back for the most part. The storm had stirred it into a murky brown. Light beamed off the surface of the crests, however, and it wasn’t hard to see the gleaming spires and bottlenecked cranes of the city of Mobile beyond it.

Olivia peered through the swinging door into Briar’s kitchen. Standing at the counter, a steaming mug of coffee clenched in one hand and an infant tucked against his opposing shoulder, Cole Savitt was the first to catch her eye. He grinned a lazy morning grin and tipped his mug toward her in greeting.

She pressed a finger to her lips, slipping quietly into the room. Adrian and Kyle sat at the round nook table and Olivia could hear Briar’s voice floating from the open pantry doors. She walked to Cole and placed her hand gently on the baby’s back. “How’s our Harmony this morning?”

“I think she’s out,” the man said, dipping his head close to his daughter’s. “She kept us awake most of the night.”

Olivia got on her tiptoes to get a better view of Harmony’s face. Her eyes were closed and her cheek was adorably mushed against the broad shoulder of Cole’s black T-shirt. Olivia grazed her fingertip over the bridge of the two-month-old’s button nose and sighed. “I was hoping for a smile this morning.” Lowering herself back to the heels of her feet, Olivia asked, “Colicky again?”

“Yep,” Cole said, carefully readjusting the weight of the baby so that she settled against his chest and not his arm. “It’s winding down, though. She hasn’t had a rough night like this in a couple weeks.” His smile turned sly as his dark eyes settled on Olivia’s face again. “I just hope she didn’t disturb our latest guest.”

Olivia groaned. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Oh, come on, Liv,” Cole said, setting his coffee down so he could run a tan, calloused hand over Harmony’s back. “I recall a time, about a year and a half ago now, when you teased Briar and me mercilessly just for glancing at each other at the breakfast table. Now you’ve gone and found yourself not just a boyfriend but a bona fide bridegroom and I can’t make a comment?” He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t think so, cuz.”

She had a hard time holding the frown on her lips when he looked so mischievous. Olivia had been raised with Briar. They were more sisters than cousins, which made Cole the closest thing to a brother Olivia would ever have. It did her well to see light and laughter in his eyes now, when a year and a half ago there had been none of that. “Just do me a favor and tell me where I can find the man of the hour?”

Cole nodded toward the pantry. “Bartering a couple of jars of Briar’s homemade jam off her. She’s practically fawning over him.” He grabbed his coffee again, raised it to his lips with lowered brows. “If I weren’t so secure in our relationship, I might feel more than a small stab of jealousy.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” she pointed out. “Me, on the other hand? That’s a whole different ball game. I’m gonna try to rope him out of here.”