Resolution (A Golden Beach Novel) Read online

  Table of Contents

  RESOLUTION

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  RESOLUTION

  A Golden Beach Novel

  KIM LORAINE

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  RESOLUTION

  Copyright©2017

  KIM LORAINE

  Cover Design by Ramona Lockwood

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-347-5

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Acknowledgements

  There are always so many people to thank when a book is released: my editor, Cindy, my endlessly patient cover artist, Ramona, my publisher, Soul Mate Publishing. These people are the ones who work with me, take chances on my books, and support my writing career.

  My husband, who is always the inspiration for the best parts of each of my book boyfriends, thanks for giving me so much good to base these guys on. My kids, who are always excited when mom has a new book coming out. My friends, beta readers, and street team, you guys routinely make my day.

  To my readers, without you, Golden Beach wouldn’t have gone from one book to five. Thank you!

  Kim

  Chapter 1

  Lauren Garcia turned the letter over in her hands as she sat on the bed in the unfamiliar room she now called home. She shouldn’t open it. She knew that. But the curiosity she felt clawing at her resolve only grew as time went on.

  “Don’t open it, Lo,” she told herself, staring down at the dusty envelope. The edges of the paper were tattered, a name scrawled across the front, just like all the others. Rae.

  Pacing the room, she navigated the maze of unopened moving boxes and returned to the closet. She stared up at the old shoebox she’d found tucked away in the back of the highest shelf. She should just put this envelope back inside, forget the multitude of letters the box held, and move on. But she couldn’t.

  Slipping her fingers under the flap, she traced the line of folded paper before pulling the letter free.

  Who was Rae?

  Maybe she’d stumbled upon a love story she could use to inspire her own passion for writing. These letters looked old; the box had been caked in a thick layer of dust. They probably chronicled an epic love that defied all odds from fifty years ago.

  Settling herself down on her bed, she opened the letter and began reading.

  Rae,

  Happy birthday. I’m going to ask you to be mine forever today. There’s no one more important to me than you. You know I’m terrible at saying what I mean, especially around you. You make me forget everything when I look at you. All I want to do when I see you is kiss your beautiful mouth until we’re both breathless. So, as a way for me to remind you how I love you, I’ve decided to start writing you letters. Words on paper can’t be forgotten over time. We’ll always have these. And if you say yes, which I hope you do, when you need a reminder you can look back and remember the one thing at the core of us. Love.

  I want to be the man you need for the rest of our lives. I know you’re the woman I’ll always need. Please say yes. God, I hope you say yes.

  Always yours

  Her heart swelled and she dropped the letter onto the bed as she fell back against her pillow. That’s what she needed in her life. Where were the men who knew how to love a woman? Lost to the past most likely. That was why she’d broken her engagement. It was why she’d moved out of Dean’s house and into this ground-floor duplex. This was supposed to be her chance to strike out on her own, be independent, make her own choices.

  Sighing, she carefully folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, tucking it away behind the rest of the letters. She wouldn’t read any more.

  At least not tonight.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alex Oliver stood outside of Station 31, his stomach knotted with anxious energy as his heart constricted in his chest. He’d been here before, outside of these very doors on his first day, fifteen years ago. After leaving the fire service five years earlier, he never thought he’d be back, starting all over again. But, there were a lot of things he never thought he’d experience. An ache bloomed deep inside as he twisted his wedding ring around on his finger. Now, the band of gold meant nothing and everything at the same time.

  Squaring his shoulders, he took a heavy breath and walked through the doors and into the place which held a lifetime of memories.

  “Holy shit, look who it is! Hey, old man. You just couldn’t stay away from us, huh?” Carson Sullivan beamed at him, his bright eyes and booming voice lightening Alex’s mood immediately.

  Letting the weight of his thoughts fall off his shoulders, Alex shrugged out of his jacket and walked over to greet his firehouse brothers. “Sully. Miller. Good to see you guys.”

  Donovan Miller smiled and shook his hand. They’d only worked together for a short period of time before Alex left, but from everything he’d heard, the man was a damn good firefighter. “The chief says you’re on search and rescue.”

  Nodding, Alex pulled his bag higher on his shoulder. “Did it for ten years. Figured it made sense to come back to what I know.”

  “You’re taking Klip’s badge number. Did the chief tell you that?” Donovan’s voice was low and quiet as he narrowed his e
yes and balled his hands into tight fists.

  “He did.” He understood why the younger man was hostile. Tommy Klipper had been a longstanding member of the house; been there for most of Alex’s career. His death in the line of duty added another shroud of loss over an already grieving community.

  “You gonna decide to leave us again when you can’t handle it?”

  Sully threw a towel at Donovan’s head. “Shut up. He’s here now. It’s good to have another Oliver on the crew. Hasn’t been the same since Michael made the move to fire investigation. Doesn’t feel right not having at least one of you here.”

  Alex didn’t respond as anger threatened to surface. He needed to control himself, keep his emotions at bay. The whole reason he’d come back was to do something different, something that could pull him out of the darkness he lived in. Walking past the two men, he headed for his locker, knowing he’d be put through his paces until he proved himself.

  The shift went by without a single call. Instead of saving lives, he’d spent the last twenty-four hours cleaning toilets, answering the phone, and scrubbing the grout in the bathrooms. He reminded himself repeatedly that he may have ten years of experience, but he was still the new guy. The new guys got the brunt of the shitty jobs; he remembered it well. After all, he’d assigned these same jobs to plenty of recruits in his days before leaving the fire service.

  As the end of his shift approached, he rolled his shoulders and stretched the aching muscles in his neck. He didn’t want to go back to his parents’ house. He was thirty-eight years old for Christ’s sake. That familiar burn of rage started building in his gut. Walking out to his truck, he frowned as he pulled open the heavy door, not wanting to face the rest of the day.

  His phone rang as he started the engine. “Hello?”

  “Alex, honey. How was your first shift? Were the boys nice to you?” His mom’s questions made him cringe. This was exactly why he needed to get out of his parents’ guest room and back into his own place. Renovations had started on his house a month ago. According to Michael, it wouldn’t be long before he could move in. Thank fuck his brother was a contractor as well as a firefighter.

  “Fine. It was fine.”

  “Are you coming home? I can make you some pancakes.”

  Closing his eyes in a long blink, he held back the sigh of annoyance. “No. I’m going out with some of the guys,” he lied.

  “Oh, good. I’m so glad. You need friends now more than ever.”

  “Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Go have fun. Love you.”

  “You, too.” He leaned his head on the steering wheel as he hung up. He loved his mom, but for the last few weeks, since he’d come home to Golden Beach, she’d been suffocating him.

  Driving down the picturesque main street, he fought off the memories of Roxie. Why had he come home when she was so present in all of his memories? There wasn’t a single place in this town that he hadn’t been with her. But he couldn’t stay in Richmond, where she’d been his only lifeline. As he neared the end of the road, an unfamiliar sign caught his eye. Turning, he followed the street up a hill and was surprised to find a cafe at the halfway point. His chest loosened as he realized he’d found a place without an imprint of Roxie.

  Walking through the large barn-style doors, he stared up at the high ceilings and exposed beams. It was open, different from anything he’d seen downtown, and perfect.

  “Hi there, welcome to The Oak Tree.” An older woman with a soft face and a gentle smile called his attention from the architecture of the building.

  He nodded. “Uh, table for one,” he muttered.

  “Really? A handsome man like you shouldn’t be eating alone.”

  “Yeah. Um, is this a seat-yourself kind of place?” He worked to keep the frustration out of his voice.

  “Well, right now it’s not too busy. Usually we’ve only got a table or two open. Since it’s slow, you can take your pick.” She gestured to the large dining area.

  Offering her another nod, he settled on a table next to the window which offered him a view of the town he knew so well. He got lost staring down at the street, remembering, but also wanting to escape.

  He hated Roxie for leaving him, for choosing to abandon him. But most of all, he hated himself for letting her.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Can I get you some coffee?” Lauren asked the man seated in her section as he stared blankly out the window. He looked so sad her heart ached.

  After standing next to him for several moments, she asked again. “Excuse me?”

  Facing her, he frowned, the hardness in the blue-green depths of his eyes startling. “What?” came his clipped reply.

  “I . . . uh, did you want some coffee?”

  He nodded, turning away as she filled the mug. Hesitant, she cleared her throat in hopes that he would realize she wasn’t quite finished.

  “Yes?” Those eyes found hers again and despite the anger burning behind them, she couldn’t look away.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  He looked down at the empty table. “Does it look like I’m ready?”

  A hot blush crept up her cheeks when she realized aside from the coffee mug, his table was empty. Kayleen should have taken care of this when she’d seated him. “Oh, sorry. Let me get you a table setting and a menu.”

  Again, he nodded and resumed staring out the window. Goodness, he was prickly. Hot, but prickly. She wondered what his story was. Everyone had a story, and she loved hearing them.

  As she grabbed the plastic-encased menu and a set of silverware, she couldn’t help but watch him from a distance. His broad shoulders hunched as he moved his gaze from the town below to the black liquid as she filled his mug. He didn’t drink it, just stared as the steam curled up from the cup.

  “Are you okay?” She slid the menu in front of him.

  He answered her with a questioning glance and silence before finally speaking. “I’m fine.”

  “It’s just . . . you look sad.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Are you waiting for someone?”

  “No.”

  She smiled. “My name’s Lauren.”

  Nothing. He didn’t introduce himself and not even a hint of a smile crossed his lips.

  After an awkward silence, she said, “Just let me know when you’re ready to order.”

  His eyebrows pulled together as he frowned down at the list of specials. “If I order, will you leave me alone?”

  She wasn’t used to this type of treatment. Her days were spent chatting with friendly customers, learning about them, building little friendships. This man was like a storm cloud, ominous and filled with the potential to ruin a perfect day.

  “Until I bring your food, or feel the need to check on you? Yeah.”

  “In that case, I’ll have whatever takes the longest to make.”

  Oh, this man was a jerk. Plain and simple.

  “Fine. That’s the apple pancake. You’re not allergic to apples, are you?”

  Confusion crossed his features. “No.”

  “Pity,” she said, turning on her heel and stalking toward the kitchen.

  After he’d eaten and paid, leaving the worst tip she’d ever gotten, Lauren heaved a sigh of relief. Hopefully, she’d never have to see him again.

  He came back three times that week. Each day was the same thing—she tried to get him to talk, he brushed her off. Today was no different. He sat in his usual table, staring at the town with a brooding look on his face.

  “God, he’s gorgeous.” Lauren jumped when the husky voice of Roland, her favorite line cook, rumbled in her ear.

  “Who?” She feigned innocence.

  He swatted playfully at her shoulder. “Oh, shut up. Y
ou know exactly who. That hunk of man sitting by the window that you’ve been staring at. Did you figure out his story yet?”

  Shaking her head, she sighed. “He hates me.”

  Roland grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. “Now you listen to me, Chica. That man doesn’t know what he’s missing. You’ll win him over.”

  “I doubt it, but thanks. You can probably go ahead and start an apple pancake for him. He likes me to get his order and leave him alone as long as possible.”

  He winked. “Want me to spit in the sauce?”

  Laughing, she walked away, knowing there was no way Roland would do that.

  Or would he?

  Just as they did every time she saw him, butterflies danced in her stomach as she approached the man’s table. Today he wore glasses with dark black frames. She felt an unwelcome curl of desire rush through her as he glanced her way.

  “Hello, again. Nice to see you. How has your morning been so far?” She turned up her smile a notch.

  “Why do you keep trying to be my friend?”

  Her heart stuttered. “I’m just being friendly. There’s a difference.”

  “All you need to do is take my order and bring me my food. I don’t need to like you and you don’t need to like me.”

  “Coffee and an apple pancake?”

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, she headed back to the kitchen. “Roland, he wants an apple pancake—extra sauce.”

  Chapter 2

  Rae,

  Happy birthday, my love. We’ve been married two days and I still can’t believe you’re really mine. I love watching you sleep, and right at this moment putting pen to paper is the only thing keeping me from brushing your hair away from your face so I can see you better. I probably forgot to tell you how beautiful you were in your wedding dress, or how you smelled like roses and fresh water. When I saw you walking toward me before we went inside that courthouse, I couldn’t imagine wasting anymore time not being with you. Thank you for trusting me enough to put your future in my hands. I promise I’ll take care of it.