Sue Fortin - United States of Love

Sue Fortin

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Sue Fortin Sue Fortin Lover of cake, Dragonflies and France. Hater of calories, maths and snakes. I was born in Hertfordshire but had a nomadic childhood, moving often with my family, and for a time I did actually think my name was ‘The New Girl’. However, having lived in West Sussex all my adult life, it does feel like home and I do now know what my name is! In my previous life, aka before children, I worked in various secretarial/PA roles before admitting defeat at juggling a career with four tiddly-peeps, and left the world of paid employment to rediscover my love of writing.

Dedication To my family, with all my love, for all your love.

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 Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Love Romance?

About HarperImpulse

Copyright

About the Publisher

Lover of cake, Dragonflies and France. Hater of calories, maths and snakes. I was born in Hertfordshire but had a nomadic childhood, moving often with my family, and for a time I did actually think my name was ‘The New Girl’. However, having lived in West Sussex all my adult life, it does feel like home and I do now know what my name is! In my previous life, aka before children, I worked in various secretarial/PA roles before admitting defeat at juggling a career with four tiddly-peeps, and left the world of paid employment to rediscover my love of writing.

To my family, with all my love, for all your love.

It was her hair that caught his attention first: short cropped and blonde. White blonde. It was her neat little figure second, and it was the car coming up the road as she stepped backwards off the sidewalk that he noticed last.

Tex Garcia felt like he was moving in slow motion as he lunged towards her, grabbing her arm and hauling her out of the car’s path. She slammed into his chest, and in a reflex gesture he engulfed her in his arms as the car sped by, missing her by inches.

‘Whoa! You got some sort of death wish?’ He looked down at her. Staring back up at him were two startled and confused mossy-green eyes. ‘You just nearly got yourself run over.’

She looked up the road at the offending vehicle as it disappeared out of sight. ‘Th … thank you,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t see it.’

‘You don’t say.’ He crooked a smile.

‘Well, I think the danger is over now, so maybe you could…’ She regarded his arms still firmly around her. ‘Perhaps release me?’

‘What? Oh, sorry.’ Tex dropped his hands and took a step back. Then, as a precautionary measure, put a hand on her arm and drew her away from the edge of the sidewalk and into the forecourt of the church building. He looked up at his new business premises, wondering what had distracted her. She had been gazing up at the building, poised with a camera in her hand.

She followed his gaze. ‘It’s going to be a pizza place.’ He didn’t miss the derogatory tone in her voice.

‘Really?’ He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye.

‘Hmm. Apparently some Italian chef has bought it. Nico Garcia. Although I have to admit, I thought Garcia was a Hispanic name.’

‘You don’t sound too impressed.’

‘Ignoring the potential for noisy scooters whining up and down with their delivery boxes full of pizza, I dread to think what will happen to the building itself. I just hope that the planning department doesn’t let this Nico Garcia ruin it.’

Tex sucked in the corners of his mouth to repress the grin that was threatening to erupt. ‘What makes you think it will be ruined?’

‘Not being British, he may not appreciate how old this building really is. It’s got so much history and, okay, it hasn’t been used as a church for a long time now, but it has always retained its dignity.’ She wandered over to the entrance and reached out to touch the solid oak doors. ‘It would be awful if these were changed to some modern glass ones, or those gorgeous leaded and stained glass windows swapped for big, white plastic, double-glazed ones.’

This time Tex couldn’t censor his grin or the small chuckle. He had actually been thinking about changing those old windows with plain glass to let some more light into the place. She turned and looked at him, her eyebrows darting together. He swallowed down his laugh and put on a straight face.

‘You’re quite passionate about it, aren’t you?’

The frown lifted as she shrugged. ‘I love Arundel. This town’s got so much history. I work part-time as a tour guide so I suppose I’ve grown quite fond of some of the buildings, even if they don’t warrant a mention on the tours.’

He nodded, and as she looked up at the building again, he took the opportunity to appreciate a different view: her neat butt. She swung round too quickly for him to avert his eyes, and for a moment he wondered whether she was some sort of feminist who was about to slap his face. To his relief, it appeared she wasn’t. Instead, she began to inspect her camera and presumably the photos she had taken of the church.

He leant over her shoulder, peering at the small digital screen, taking time to breathe in the soft vanilla fragrance that floated around her hair.

‘What are the photos for?’

‘I like to keep a record of the town. Before and after shots of how things change and develop. I might make a book of them all one day.’

‘Social history in pictures.’

She turned to look at him. ‘Yeah, something like that.’ Switching off her camera, she moved slightly away. ‘You’re American, right?’

‘Sure am,’ replied Tex, tipping his forehead with his fingers in a slack salute.

‘On holiday?’

‘No. Actually, I’ve lived in the UK for five years now.’ He drove down the churning in his gut. It always happened when he thought about his move here and what he had left behind.

‘Oh, I see. If you were a tourist I was going to sign you up for a guided tour.’ She smiled at him. ‘My boss is always nagging me, so at least today I can say I tried. And speaking of which, I had better get on. I’ve got a tour in five minutes and I’ve got to get up to the cathedral yet.’

Tex was aware that a slither of disappointment eked its way through him as she made to head off.

She paused. ‘There’s an open evening here tonight. Get to meet the new owner.’

‘You going?’ he asked.

‘Too right. I need to check out the competition.’

Tex raised his eyebrows in question. ‘Competition?’ She looked so sincere, he almost felt guilty for his deception. Maybe deception was too harsh a word. More like withholding information.