Sun, sand, surf, and sex

Nevada Noble has left behind a boring boyfriend and a suffocating family in the midwest to start a new life in Florida. Trading snow boots for sunglasses and socks for flip-flops, Neve instantly falls in love with the surf and the sand.

Her promise to stay faithful to only her love affair with the beach is soon in jeopardy as the prodigal son of the seaside town returns. He’s sexy, smart, and single—with a hint of mystery surrounding his sudden return.

Neve realizes the vow of chastity she made along the shores isn’t strong enough to withstand the tidal pull of attraction. Her heart gets caught in a riptide.

---

Purchase:
Kindle ♥ Nook ♥ Apple ♥ Google Play ♥ Kobo ♥ Smashwords ♥ Print

Release Date: April 11, 2023
Genre: Contemporary Romance

~ A Red Satin Romance ~

---

Excerpt

Chapter One

Nevada Noble was in love.

She hadn’t planned on romance when she moved from Iowa to Florida, but she’d been swept off her feet at first sight. The only moment previously in her life when she could remember feeling this way had been at sixteen and Tucker Morris, the senior star of the football team, had pulled her under the bleachers after the season championship game and had kissed her for her first time—his eyes had been so blue and his scruffy senior cheeks had been both smooth and abrasive and his touch had made her feel so warm...

The blue of the ocean reminded Neve of Tucker’s eyes. The sand under her feet was coarse and silky at the same time. The breeze and the sun made her practically melt right there on the beach.

She’d been here every day since arriving in Salem Crossing.

The waves crashed with a lulling rhythm. The sun reached its apex in the clear sky, warming every inch of her. A soft breeze kept the perspiration from collecting on her exposed skin. Somewhere, the sounds of island music played farther down the shoreline. The smell of salt carried on the air. Her toes made meaningless swirls in the sand.

A shadow interrupted the sun. Neve was propped on her elbows and facing the sea, but the view of the waterline became blocked by a visual dam. More like damn! The dude was six foot six, blonde, and fit as hell. He must’ve been jogging by, and now he’d stopped at Neve’s spot. He wore a pair of running shoes and some shorts. His chest was chiseled in bronze, glistening with sweat from exercise. Yellowy-blonde hair featured tips bleached white by a whole lot of sun. His hands rested on his hips like some figure from myth who’d emerged from his sea kingdom behind him.

“Who’re you supposed to be?” he asked.

Neve had a medium complexion, but it wasn’t from exposure to the sun. She didn’t know who it was from. Mom and Dad had adopted her as an infant and she’d never learned the identity of her birth parents. Neve didn’t know her ethnicity. The only thing she knew for sure was she was all-American—Neve wore a bikini with red and white stripes on the top and blue bottoms featuring white stars. Considering her black luxurious hair and statuesque figure, she could’ve been participating in sexy-as-hell Wonder Woman cosplay. The guy maybe thought she was wearing a costume.

After surreptitiously examining the man head to toe from behind her tinted lens, Neve dismissed the package upon consideration. She’d come to town a few days ago and her purpose in moving to a whole new place wasn’t to fall for the first random hottie to cross her path. Besides, the Atlantic had already stolen her heart. Neve wanted to start a new life and she didn’t need to build a fresh foundation with a new man. She’d recently left one of those behind back in flyover country.

The wise woman builds her future upon the sand.

What an odd way to make an introduction... Who’re you supposed to be?

“I’m supposed to be a woman. How am I doing?” Neve asked.

“From what I can see, you’ve hit a home run.” Neve certainly wasn’t the first female he’d ever stopped to chat up on the beach—maybe a morning jog was his way to pick up horny tourists. He’d probably done this dozens of times. “My name’s Alistair.”

The buff babe paused for Neve to introduce herself, but she dismissed the prompt by playing coy. She slid her sunglasses down the smooth little slope of her nose and checked him out without the filter of tinted lenses. Alistair presented even better with a natural bronze tint instead of the one provided artificially by Neve’s sunglasses.

“Y’know, we don’t usually get tourists on this part of the beach,” he said. “Kind of a secret stretch reserved for the locals.”

“Good for me I moved here permanently then,” Neve replied.

She’d recently finished unpacking her things. After living in the Midwest all her life, she couldn’t resist hitting the beach as soon as she’d settled in. Had she ever imagined herself living on the coast? She’d never believed her overprotective parents would ever let her out of their zip code, let alone out of their time zone. She’d attended four years of college forty-five minutes from where she’d grown up. Even family vacations had never crossed state lines.

Now, she lived in Salem Crossing, Florida. The locals like Alistair called it SX. She didn’t get it until she saw the sea—SX could be a euphemism for sex. Sexy. She sat on a six-mile stretch of pristine coastline called Salem Shores and felt alive. Buzzing. Beautiful. Beachy and peachy.

“We get a lot of tourists in SX, but not a whole lot of new residents. Some move away for a while. Most return. Some SXers like me have never been away for longer than a short vacation,” Alistair said. “But fresh blood is rare. I hadn’t heard anyone new was moving in...”

He trailed off like he should’ve been notified of her arrival. Who exactly was this guy?

“Yeah, I didn’t see you at the welcoming parade,” Neve teased. “I gotta say, I was disappointed.”

His smile changed and Neve realized he’d been giving her a prepackaged expression he’d probably practiced in the mirror since puberty. Charm might’ve started as a natural gift, but he’d exercised charisma into a superpower. Neve’s quirky comment had been unexpected and had taken him aback. The smooth facade he’d trained for while staring at his reflection cracked like a mirror and she saw his true face. Natural reaction instead of manufactured suave. He had a crooked little grin and the twinkle in his eyes grew curious instead of confident.

“You already find a place?” Alistair asked. His tone suggested she’d dug a tunnel under the fence to get in. Maybe he was the top-dog realtor in Salem Crossing and wanted to know how his competition had snuck Neve in under his radar.

Neve paused a moment. Dad had warned her about guys. She’d shunned many a smooth operator in her day based on her parents’ paranoia. Such caution had surely saved her from some pretty shitty situations in her youth. Dad’s voice warned her against answering such a forward question—Make up a lie that sounds real. Then get the hell away from the guy. But this could be her new neighbor. She couldn’t very well lie when the guy knew the town better than she did. Besides, she didn’t get a malevolent vibe from him at all. The true smile she’d seen peeking out from behind his manicured machismo registered as anything but creepy.

“I’m staying at the cottages at Palm Point,” Neve said.

Her parents had set it up. They’d gone to college back in the day with the owner of the Point, Rebecca Ryan. But Alistair didn’t need to know the whole history. He could’ve found out where she was staying from any local—he didn’t need to know the rest of her story. Not before he at least knew her name.

“Great place,” Alistair said. “Rebecca has the best view in SX. She can see the whole world from the top of the Point.”

The tip of the Point featured a three-story home built in the earliest days of the town. Rebecca had proudly explained to Nevada how the property had been in her family since the very beginning. The resort had been built at the very end of the peninsula where the Atlantic coast met the outlet of the Carver River.

Alistair sounded as if he thought the whole world was encapsulated in Salem Crossing. He’d mentioned he’d rarely left town and had never lived elsewhere. Neve had spent her whole life in the Midwest, but she’d known a bigger world existed beyond the landlocked borders. Hell, they were staring at the whole freaking ocean right now. The waters reached out to distant foreign shores. The whole world was almost everything beyond Salem Crossing.

He could set sail anywhere, but maybe Alistair was more trapped than Neve had ever been. Suddenly, instead of being sexy or intriguing, he seemed sad.

“My name’s Nevada Noble,” she finally introduced. He’d find out anyway. “Maybe I’ll see you around town.”

Alistair recognized a dismissal. It probably didn’t happen every time he stopped as he jogged along the beach, but not every woman made herself available and some weren’t interested in men or interested in this particular man. This delicious man. Neve bet quite a few were interested…

“Right.” He took a step back, the fake smile back in place. “I’ll keep my eye out.” He gave her a factory-approved wink before he dashed away.

Despite feeling a little sorry for him, Neve still watched him go. He might be a prisoner of this town, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate one fine ass as he disappeared down the beach.

* * *

Nevada Noble could see a whole helluva lot of the whole world from up there. Alistair was right about that. Not all of it, but it sure seemed like it. The ocean stretched out into infinity, waves rolling in patterns repeated across an area greater than she could ever imagine. Somewhere across the sea existed foreign lands she still hadn’t visited and cultures she’d only experienced in books and movies.

Someday, she would travel. Now, she needed to settle into her new role. New place and a new job. The fates had been aligned. Like the tides pulling toward shore, Neve had been drawn to Salem Crossing as if by some celestial force.

She’d studied in the field of social services in college, much to the ire of her parents. Ever since Mom and Dad had sat her down at a young age and revealed she’d been adopted, Neve had wanted to become a social worker. When she was young, her folks had indulged her cute interest as they hadn’t wanted to elicit any negative feelings about her status. However, when she’d applied to universities and had declared her major, they’d become vocally against it. They’d wanted her to major in political science or business or law—they saw a bright political career in Neve’s future. The thing to finally temper their opposition had been when she’d agreed to go to college at the local campus. Keeping her in proximity had turned out to be more important than their choice of her field of study.

After graduation, Neve had applied around to local places without any luck. Then a couple of weeks ago, Mom had told Neve an old friend of theirs had heard of Nevada graduating with a degree in social work. A position had opened working at City Hall in this old friend’s hometown. Neve had applied and had been accepted. The friend was Rebecca Ryan and she’d insisted Neve stay at her cottages until she got on her feet. A favor for some old friends.

Things had worked out better than Neve could’ve imagined. Now she was on top of the world.

Rebecca ran the resort from the big main house and had insisted Neve make herself feel at home. The caretaker hadn’t been home when Neve had returned from the beach, but she’d been made curious by Alistair’s comment about the view from the top of the Point. She’d made her way upstairs to the balcony off the third floor. The view was indeed breathtaking.

The balcony wrapped around the top story, so Neve followed the deck around to the side facing inland. She could see much of Salem Crossing from here. The Carver River ran inland and made a long peninsula about a half-mile across at its widest. The main population of SX lived inland, while the properties along the peninsula were owned by the affluent or leased as resort properties. The tourist section of SX occupied the opposite end of the beachline from Palm Point.

Neve’s cottage was located farthest from the main lodge before the Palm Point property ended and a lavish mansion rose behind stucco walls to begin a stunning stretch of seaside homes. Neve’s bungalow might’ve been mistaken for a servants’ quarters in the shadow of the rich estate, but she’d take her humble abode over any ranch-style house back in the Midwest. Her front yard was a beach.

Neve descended to the first floor and exited. She locked up the main door behind her. As she turned around toward the beach, Neve almost ran face-first into a redhead with the most vicious scowl Neve had ever seen up close. And it was very close. The two women stood nose-to-nose, so near their boobs bumped against each other.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?”

The young woman appeared to be around Neve’s age, but her expression suggested she’d suffered about seven decades of getting shat upon. She wore a scowl usually reserved for old women after enduring a lifetime of dealing with SOBs and asshats. The stranger stood her ground while their chests remained smooshed, so Neve retreated, backing up a step.

“Your language, Lilah.”

Neve hadn’t even noticed the other person standing nearby. He waited in the sand at the bottom of the wooden steps, his ashen complexion and boring attire blending into the beige sand. His aquamarine eyes were the same color as the sea. His hair was a mix of sun-bleached white and deep red—the color of unripe strawberries.

“Jesus, Caleb. Don’t worry about my goddamn language.”

Caleb inhaled sharply at her continued obscenities.

Neve recognized the banter. These two were siblings. She had the same kind of impolite relationship with her brother and sister.

“Rebecca gave me a key,” Neve said. “She said to make myself at home.”

“And who the hell are you?” the young woman challenged like the wrong answer would earn Neve a fist in the face. If Neve backed down from this fight, she would earn an early reputation around SX. Instead of retreating, Neve took a step forward, so quick and sure, the other woman either had to move down one step or risk toppling on her ass.

“You first,” Neve said, holding up the old-fashioned piece of brass in her hand. “I’m the one with the key.”

The redhead narrowed her eyes until the green color all but disappeared. “My name is Delilah Ryan. Auntie owns the place. She doesn’t regularly pass out a key to people I don’t know.”

Neve didn’t back off. “You’re her niece, not her mother. I suppose she doesn’t need your permission.”

The steps were wide enough to allow Neve to pass by without even touching Delilah’s elbow. Neve stepped to the side and descended to the beach, starting toward her cottage at the end. Starting a fight with a local—especially kin to her gracious host here at the cottages—wasn’t exactly how she wanted to start her week in SX.

Caleb gave her a sheepish grin as she passed. “I’m sorry about my sister. She’s rather uncouth.”

“Don’t fucking apologize for me, Caleb!”

“And sorry about her language,” he added.

Neve didn’t reply. She hadn’t meant to make an enemy after being in town for only a few days, but Delilah Ryan instantly didn’t like her. Judging by the bitchy expression tattooed on her face, the woman had a permanent pissy disposition. She probably hadn’t crossed anyone who she hadn’t initially considered an enemy in a very long time.

“She’s not always so bad.”

The voice startled Neve so much the footfalls in the sand would resemble the drunken wobble of an intoxicated tourist for a few steps. She’d marched past half the cottages along the seashore before Caleb had uttered another word. She hadn’t even heard him following her on the sound-muffling sand. She barely heard him speak over the sound of the waves.

“Are you fucking stalking me, dude?” Neve almost screamed.

Caleb looked like he’d been slapped, either by her reaction to his presence or her use of the eff-word.

“I wasn’t done talking to you,” he stuttered as if dumbfounded she hadn’t realized he’d been there all along.

Neve glanced into the distance, Delilah still standing on the lower deck around the Palm Point lodge. Caleb’s footprints matched Neve’s to where they were now. She recalled all the warnings Dad had cautioned her about guys following her into parking garages or elevators or dimly lit corridors. He’d never said anything about the beach. But here she was having a very awkward interaction with a guy she didn’t know. Slipping her hand into her purse and grasping her bottle of mace, she was ready if Caleb Ryan tried any funny business.

Surely not with his sister watching. Even at a distance, she could tell Delilah Ryan was glaring at her across the shoreline.

“What else is there to say?” Neve asked. “We hardly know each other.”

“Right. That’s what I wanted to tell you. You’re invited to church on Sunday. The six families all attend services at Our Lady of Faith. The Ryans are devout Christians and passionate participants in the church. We’d be honored if you shared in our fellowship.”

“Fellowship,” Neve repeated, imaging a bunch of hobbit cosplayers chanting prayers.

“Free coffee and donuts after the service,” Caleb added, as if to sweeten the deal.

Neve nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

Caleb shrugged as if it was okay either way. He’d followed her a hundred yards along the shoreline, but didn’t seem to care if she accepted or not. Extending the offer might be the only objective. Invitation as an incentive. He turned and started walking back the way he’d come, another set of prints going the other way.

Neve watched for a while, then turned toward her cottage. She’d had enough of Salem Shores for one day. After the sun and the sexy Alistair and the strange Ryan siblings, she was ready for bed.

* * *

The next morning, Nevada Noble was excited about her first day on the job.

What did social workers in coastal Florida wear to work? She considered open-toed sandals, then tried on high-heels before staring at a pair of flip-flops. She settled on sensible flats. Her skirt was white, flowing to match her airy blouse—she’d already learned to prepare against the oppressive tropical humidity.

The social services offices were located across the causeway on the mainland. The City of Salem Crossing maintained the largest building outside the resort area shoreline, where tall hotels and condominium high-rises cluttered a half-mile stretch of Salem Shores. The office building expanded over the equivalent area of one city block. Four stories in several adjoining sections, each wing of the baroque style architecture had been painted in a different pastel color. The baby blue entrance was juxtaposed with  coral pink on one side and a lemony yellow on the other. Various hues defined the large structure all the way around.

She expected to ask a receptionist for directions to her office, but instead a serious-looking young woman maybe a few years older than Neve greeted her at the front entrance. Her black hair was the same length as Neve’s, but whereas Neve struggled daily to keep the wavy locks under control, this woman wore straight strands trimmed perfectly even with her shoulder blades. Her fashionable glasses featured perfectly square lenses in thin silver frames.

She held out her hand. “My name is Juliet.” Neve shook it. “Let me show you around.”

Not yet nine o’clock, the offices were nevertheless already bustling with activity. Neve was used to a Midwest work ethic, but she’d heard Florida was a lot more laid back. Especially along the coast. But the workers at their station weren’t gathered around the water cooler or huddled in gossipy groups—they were already at their stations and busy with tasks. They glanced up as Neve and Juliet passed, offering a “good morning” or a quick wave, but they didn’t stop for introductions or interaction.

“Everyone seems very dedicated,” Neve said as they waited for the elevator at the end of a long hall.

“A career in public service involves fortitude and sacrifice,” Juliet said. Was she always as serious as a funeral director? “This is important work.”

“Of course,” Neve agreed. “But do they leave some time for a little Florida fun?”

Juliet scowled. “They can have fun after their shift is over. It’s called ‘work’ for a reason.” The elevator doors opened and Juliet marched into the car.

“Right,” Neve said, following her into the elevator. Neve seemed to have made the wrong first impression. Juliet didn’t seem to like her very much so far. She hadn’t started on the right foot with her new colleague. Neve hoped Juliet wasn’t her secretary or something.

The elevator doors opened and the fourth-floor hallway stretched out in front of them. At the end of the corridor, a handsome young man in a very nice suit leaned against a receptionist’s desk. The suave smile on his face suggested he was flirting with the young woman behind the counter. Neve could see why—what a stunning vision! The receptionist showed plentiful ebony skin and every inch was perfection. Her hair was teased up into a turbulent black cloud. The employee’s tight top ended too far down to be considered professional. As the guy continued talking, the young woman smiled and laughed.

“Maybe not all work and no play,” Neve whispered to Juliet as they started down the hallway. She wanted to ingratiate herself with her new coworker. She even poked Juliet conspiratorially in the ribs with her elbow. “I sense a little office romance in the making.”

“That’s my brother, Owen,” Juliet said quietly through gritted teeth. “And that isn’t his wife.”

For siblings, they appeared as opposite as two strangers. They may have resembled one another physically—dark straight hair, sharp profile, perfect teeth, manicured everything—but their personalities presented as opposite extremes. Owen’s posture was relaxed and his tie was loose. He wore tennis shoes instead of designer leather. His face lacked any of the pinched constipation of his sister. He flashed Neve a wide smile as she approached, opening his arms to offer a welcoming embrace.

“Nevada Noble,” Owen gushed as he embraced her in a sideways hug. “We’ve been looking forward to having you on our team. SX needs an injection of some fresh blood. Someone with a little less salt in their veins.” His head nodded slightly in the direction of his sister as he said it. Juliet glared at him with deadly intensity. Owen remained unfazed by his sister’s ire. Definitely siblings.

“I know I’ve got a lot to learn, but I’ve never been so excited to start something new in my whole life,” Neve said. “I appreciate the City taking a chance on a newbie right out of university.”

“We have a problem in this town with rampant nepotism. Almost everyone who has a permanent address in SX was born here. Some go away for a while, but they come back.” Hadn’t Alistair on the beach told Neve the same thing as Owen? This world seemed more down-home Midwest than her own Midwestern hometown. “I can’t seem to get away from the people in this town. I mean, I share an office with my sister.”

“Well, I’m about as outsider as you can find,” Neve said. “I’ve never even been to Florida before this week.”

“Welcome to the Sunshine State.” Owen finally removed his arm from Neve’s shoulder and released her from the school-chum side-hug. He gave Juliet a sideways glance. “Where not everything is bright and cheery.”

Owen’s smile was infectious. Neve could see why the receptionist was so enamored of the man. He oozed charm. Neve wouldn’t mind standing there and soaking up some of his charisma for a while, like recharging under the bright tropical sun.

“This way,” Juliet stated icily and opened the door marked “PRIVATE” behind the receptionist's desk.

“Have a great day, mayor,” the receptionist called as Owen and Juliet both followed Neve through the doorway. Juliet shot an even sharper glance back at the secretary who’d been flirting with her married brother. If looks could kill...

“Mayor?” Neve repeated as the door closed behind them. Had she been awkwardly ingratiating herself to the mayor all along, thinking Juliet was instead a secretary or something? Or had her lackadaisical brother been the one the receptionist was speaking to? “Which one of you is the mayor?”

Juliet made a face like she’d tasted something sour. “Why does it have to be one of us?”

“You can answer a question without being a bitch about it, Jule.” Owen elbowed Juliet a lot like Neve had when she’d witnessed Owen flirting with the receptionist, only a lot harder. “We’re both the mayor. We share the office.”

“Two mayors?”

“The practice goes back to the beginning of the city. The families who founded the town didn’t trust one another. They didn’t want one person with all the political power,” Juliet explained, a little less snippy. She could be diplomatic when the task dictated. “Thus, the office of mayor was set up as a bicameral sort of situation.”

“Co-leaders,” Owen added. “Equal partners.”

“Equal partners where one of us does all of the work,” Juliet said.

“One of us is great at running the process,” Owen said. “And one of us is better at diplomacy.”

“The idea was to have the mayor’s office represent the different constituencies of the town, but they elected a brother and a sister to the office?” Neve asked.

“The Zhangs have been in politics since the very first mayoral election in Salem Crossing,” Juliet answered. “For the last fifty years running, our family has had one or both positions in the mayor’s office.”

“The real power in SX isn’t in politics anyway,” Owen muttered.

Juliet took a turn and gave her brother an elbow in the ribs. She was neither gentle nor good-natured. They exchanged a look, suggesting more to the story of SX than they were willing to divulge to a newcomer. Neve didn’t press as Juliet expertly changed the subject.

“Here’s your office,” Mayor Zhang announced, holding out her hand to indicate the frosted glass door at the end of the corridor.

Thoughts of SX politics and ominous local history and the power structure behind the scenes all evaporated. For the first time in her life, Nevada Noble had her own office!

 

↑ Return to Top ↑