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  Swept Away for Christmas

  A Starfish Shores Holiday

  MJ Fredrick

  Tanya Michaels

  Trish Milburn

  Swept Away for Christmas, a Starfish Shores Holiday

  Published by MJ Fredrick, Tanya Michaels, and Trish Milburn at Kobobooks.com

  Copyright 2013 MJ Fredrick, Tanya Michaels and Trish Milburn

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the authors’ imaginations or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Two Hearts A Leaping

  By M.J. Frederick

  Chapter One

  Harley Blume stood outside The Pit, the beachfront bar her brother Sam co-owned, digging the heels of her boots into the sand in the parking lot. Sam had been quick enough to invite her to come to Starfish Shores, Alabama, when she’d confessed her woes to him, but telling him on the phone was one thing. Seeing the pity in his eyes was something else.

  Poor pitiful Harley, dumped by her high school sweetheart, left without a place to live, stuck in a dead-end job because she’d been an idiot and followed Asshole Tony to Nashville, where he’d been so certain he’d make it as a country songwriter. He hadn’t been bad, truly, but songwriters in that town were a dime a dozen. So were the girlfriends who supported their dreams by answering phones in an office and fending off too-friendly bosses. Naturally, once Asshole Tony started seeing some success, he celebrated by sleeping around.

  So here she was, twenty-five and homeless. Sam had offered her a place to stay until she could figure out what to do next.

  A fresh start. That’s how she’d look at this. The first step was going into the bar and facing her brother. She rolled her shoulders and stepped through the door leading in from the street.

  She hadn’t been to his bar before, so when he’d told her it was an open bar, she hadn’t been sure what to think. What it was, was, well, an open bar. Ahead of her, across the weathered decking, were the beach and the ocean. Around the deck, space heaters were placed at measured intervals. To her left was a wood and tin structure where the main part of the bar was located. Bleached wood fronted the bar, painted in alternating colors one would see on beachfront houses, but the color had worn down so some of the wood was exposed. In front of the bar was a row of similarly painted barstools, and clear bulbs hung on strings from the posts in the bar outward over the seating area in a fan shape. Cute.

  Behind the bar, however, looked like Sam’s old dorm room. The University of Alabama sports paraphernalia—elephants wearing red sweaters, cups and other things bearing giant scrolling “A’s”— littered the shelves in between the bottles, signs were hammered to the walls there, and on the wall to her right. It made sense—Sam and his college roommate Liam had played football with the Crimson Tide, and were of course in Alabama, where football was king. And the decor went with the flat-screen TVs mounted in shielded areas, both showing different sporting events. But seriously, these were two men, almost thirty, reliving their glory days?

  Customers gathered near tall space heaters. Maybe her blood had thickened in her time in Nashville, because she wasn’t cold at all. She was, however, surprised the place was so busy on a Tuesday night in December.

  “Harley!”

  Her brother’s voice carried cheerfully above the conversation and the sound from the TVs. She barely turned before he caught her up in a bear hug.

  Instantly, she relaxed in her big brother’s arms. She’d heard horror stories of sibling rivalry, but had honestly never experienced it with Sam. Maybe because he was five years older, but he’d always been protective and she’d always felt safe with him.

  It didn’t hurt that he was six three and in the Coast Guard Reserves.

  He drew back to look at her, and his cheerful expression collapsed. “You look like hell.”

  “Gee, thanks, what I love to hear.” She passed a hand over her hair. “Not so much sleeping going on lately. A lot of worrying.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry now. You’ve got a place to stay as long as you need it, while you figure out what you’re going to do next.”

  God knew she would need time, because she had no flipping idea what she was going to do.

  “Look, come say hi to Liam, then we’ll take off, I’ll get you settled in the house and then I’ll come back.”

  Liam. She hung back just a bit. If she looked as bad as Sam’s reaction suggested, she did not want to face Liam. She’d had a major crush on him when he and Sam were in college. Of course she’d never said anything, because how childish was that? She’d been fifteen at the time, gangly as hell, and Liam was one fine specimen. Even now, she looked like something the cat dragged in. Plus, Jesus, if Sam told Liam her pathetic story, she may just as well go bury herself in the sand over there.

  But Sam tugged, and she staggered forward to where Liam worked behind the bar.

  If she’d hoped he’d gotten fat and bald in the few years since she’d seen him, well, she would have been stupid, that was for sure, because that would be a waste. But no, if anything, he’d gotten better with age, his face leaner, bristling with a bit of stubble. He still kept his dark hair almost military short, which only emphasized his blue eyes. Damn, he had pretty eyes. Right now they were trained on a blonde who was toying with a beer bottle and clearly in no hurry to leave the bar, but then Sam drew his attention and he focused his gaze on Harley.

  Holy crap. “I love Alabama,” she whispered.

  “What?” Sam asked, but she waved him off.

  “Harley!” he greeted, and used the bar to lift himself up to give her a kiss on the cheek.

  She didn’t know what she appreciated more, the way the muscles in his arms rippled when he lifted himself, or the brush of his stubble against her cheek. Suddenly, she felt tons better.

  “Hi, Liam.”

  “Hey, you want a beer?” The words came at her like bullets. She’d forgotten how, er, energetic he was.

  “No, thanks.”

  “I’m going to take her to my place and get her settled, and I’ll be back in a bit,” Sam said. “You got this?”

  Liam gave a casual wave. “No problem. Sure you don’t want to have a drink first?”
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  “I’m sure,” she promised, backing away. The sooner she got to Sam’s and could hide, the better.

  Only that wasn’t to be. If she thought Sam would just drop her off and head back to the bar, she was mistaken. Instead he took her to the two-bedroom bungalow where he lived, a little more than half a mile from the beach, a cute enough place for a bachelor—and a hell of a lot more than she had to her name. He showed her to her room, almost completely taken up by a full-sized bed, but she could see he’d made an effort to clean out his gym equipment and other paraphernalia to make room for her. The Coast Guard recruiting poster featuring him still hung in the room, grinning at her. Yeah, great. Big brother was watching.

  He set her suitcase on the bed and hefted a hip onto the corner of the dresser.

  “So, you know you’re welcome here as long as you need to stay.”

  “You’ve said,” she said, stopping with the key halfway into the lock of her suitcase. Where was he going with this?

  “I was just wondering why you wouldn’t rather go home. Especially since it’s almost Christmas.”

  She braced her hands on top of the suitcase and met his gaze. “Okay, let’s say you were living with someone your parents thought was worthless, and you thought you knew better, that she was awesome, and it turned out your parents were right. Would you be in any hurry to come face-to-face with them? Christmas will be soon enough, and long enough, and then I’ll escape back here with you.”

  He grunted, and she turned back to opening her luggage.

  “I’m sorry I’m pretty clueless right now. Still reeling, though I should have seen it coming.”

  “The offer to go kick his ass still stands.”

  She sighed. That had been Sam’s answer for everything since she started dating. As satisfying as it might be... “I need to start kicking asses all on my own.”

  “That is true.” He stood with a sigh and kissed her forehead. “There’s Diet Coke and lunch meat and stuff in the fridge. I got some bananas and M&Ms, too. Not sure which you might be in the mood for.”

  She hadn’t been in the mood for much of anything, to be truthful, and had dropped seven pounds. Her jeans hung looser on her than they ever had. “You’re a good brother.”

  “I hate to leave you, but I don’t want Liam to have to close up on his own.”

  “I meant to ask, how are y’all so busy in December? People still come to the beach in December?”

  “A lot of them, actually, because it’s off-season and cheaper. We get snowbirds, and locals, and more tourists than you’d think. Not as busy as we’ll be in March, and later. But we’re doing okay. You want to come back out tonight?”

  “Definitely not. I’ll be fine, Sam. Go ahead and go. I’ll just watch some TV and hopefully get some sleep.”

  “I’ll try to be quiet when I come in.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

  “Look, Sam,” she said as he started out the front door.

  He stopped and turned.

  “I don’t want to cramp your style. If you want to bring someone back, don’t worry about me.”

  He gave her a grin that she couldn’t quite interpret, and headed out.

  ***

  It turned out she could fall asleep, but couldn’t stay asleep. She stared at the clock beside her bed, willing the numbers to change. Sam was asleep in the next room, or she’d turn on the TV to soothe herself. She checked the weather on her phone. Upper forties. Warmer than back home.

  No, wait. There was no “back home.” She sighed and pushed herself out of bed, then peeked out the curtain at the quiet dark street. The beach wasn’t far away, and Starfish Shores was a small town. She’d go for a walk. Maybe the ocean air would kickstart her brain, or relax her enough to go back to sleep.

  She dressed quietly in yoga pants, a T-shirt and a hoodie and crept out the front door, making sure she had a key to get back in. Sam would not like being awakened by her banging on the door. She tucked a couple of bucks in her pocket, in case she came across an open bakery or something. Not likely at barely five in the morning, but possible. At the last minute, she rummaged for a flashlight, tested it to make sure it worked, and put it in her hoodie pocket.

  The chill in the air stole her breath for a minute, but as she walked briskly to the end of the street, she warmed up enough to unzip the hoodie. She could smell the ocean, and the lure of it increased her pace. She crossed the main street of the town, and stepped with more force than necessary on the wooden walkway that led over the dunes and to the beach.

  She paused. It was darker out here than she expected, even with the lights from the condos that lined the beach. Ahead of her, at the edge of the water, she saw a few people with flashlights aimed at the sand, probably looking for shells. She pulled out her own, flicked it on and grimaced at the weak beam of light. But she was here, and the sand was calling to her. She toed off her shoes, scooped down to pick them up and stepped onto the sand.

  Holy crap, it was cold! She did a little dance in the sifting grains before curling her toes into it. Again, she thought about heading back to the warmth of the bungalow, but no. She could deal with the chill.

  She’d forgotten how hard it was to walk in loose sand, so staggered a bit toward the water, stopping a couple of times when small crabs darted past her crappy flashlight beam.

  “It’s okay, little dude, I don’t want to step on you any more than you want to be stepped on.”

  Finally she reached the packed sand, and like the people she saw around her, shone the flashlight in search of shells.

  She was so engrossed in the search—and shells bulged in her hoodie pockets—that she was unaware of the sky lightening and more people joining them on the beach, some searching, some out for a run. Which had been her original plan, to run herself, she realized guiltily.

  She heard pounding footsteps and moved out of the way, only to meet a wave coming in. Her shriek of alarm rang out along the quiet beach, drawing everyone’s attention and once more making her want to bury herself in the sand.

  And then it got better. The runner whose path she’d been clearing caught her by the arms to steady her before she fell on her ass in the water, and she looked into the blue eyes of Liam Channing.

  Of course she did.

  His hoodie fell back and his eyes brightened when he recognized her. “Hey, you’re not wanting to go for a swim, are you?” Instead of letting her answer, he pulled her away from the water, placing himself between her and the waves. “It’s low tide, but it can still sneak up on you.” He released her and stepped back. “What are you doing out here so early?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” Good Lord, he’d said more words than she’d thought all morning.

  “Yeah, well, good call. Nothing like a walk on the beach.” He pointed to her lumpy pockets. “Find anything good?”

  “Um.” Yep, she was always so verbose around him.

  “Let’s go get some coffee, and you can show me what you found. One time when I was out early, I found a sand dollar that was still alive.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep. You could see its little tentacles or legs or whatever sticking out the sides, as it tried to swim away. They’re darker than the shells, you know. It was cool.”

  “Are you sure you need coffee?” she blurted. “You seem wide awake to me.”

  He laughed, another sound that carried over the beach. “Believe it or not, it calms me down.” He tapped his temple. “ADD.”

  “I never would have guessed. Do you sleep? I mean, didn’t you close the bar last night?”

  “Sure, I did, and sure, I sleep. But I like to run on the beach, too, and this is the best time of day. So, coffee?”

  “Sam will be wondering where I am.” She took a step backwards. “I didn’t leave him a note.”

  Liam snorted. “He won’t see daylight for another four or five hours at least. Come on. We’ll get some coffee, then you can come fishing with me on the pier.”

  Her stomach rumble
d and he grinned, as if he’d already won. “The place I get coffee has great pastries, too.”

  Even though she’d been thinking of pastries all morning, she resisted. “If I get pastries, I’ll have to start running, too.”

  “Good, then I’ll have someone to run with. Sam is too competitive. Plus, he sleeps late.”

  “From what I remember, you’re pretty competitive yourself.”

  “Stubborn. Stubborn is what I am. So come on. Pastries and coffee sound really good right now.” He started walking up the beach and despite herself, she fell in step.

  “Aren’t I holding you back from your run?”

  He turned back as if to gauge the distance. “Nah, I did okay.”

  “So you’re going fishing? Do you have your gear? And doesn’t that require, I don’t know, patience?”

  He flashed a grin that made her knees wobbly. “I’m plenty patient. Again with the stubborn, see. I can out-wait just about anything.”

  She didn’t know why she got a feeling he was sending her a message. Maybe it was just her sleep-deprived mind drawing lines where there weren’t any.

  “So how long are you in town?” he asked as they continued down the beach.

  “I don’t know yet.” She was sure Sam had told him the whole story, but she so didn’t want to go into it with him.

  “Yeah, well, the reason I was asking is that once Sam goes on his annual training maneuvers, I’m going to need help at the bar.”

  She stopped. “When he goes where?”

  “He didn’t tell you? He’s got annual training coming up starting this weekend. He’ll be gone until just before Christmas.”

  “Why wouldn’t he tell me that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was waiting until you got settled in or something. Don’t worry about it. You’ll have the house to yourself when he goes.”

  But she didn’t know a soul in Starfish Shores, didn’t have a thing to do. But what had she wanted, really? Him to babysit her? Entertain her?