For years, he wanted to leave Bluestone. Just when it's possible, he gets something he wants more. Quinn Alden is leaving Bluestone. As soon as he can get someone to buy the bar he bought with his Army buddy, the one who didn’t come home, he’s heading for someplace where the fishing is as good, but the winters aren’t so miserable. This was never his dream, the lake, the bar, the girl... Lily Prater is the heart of Bluestone. As the owner of the landing where people dock their boats, rent a launch or a cabin, she has a lot invested in the town. She’s fighting hard to save her town, hit hard by the recession. Her mind is always spinning with ideas, ideas she can usually get Quinn to help her carry out. They work together on the summer celebrations, the outdoor movies, the winter carnival, the tension growing between them. But it takes leaving Bluestone for him to see her as more than his best friend’s girl, and make him wonder if leaving Bluestone for good is what he wants at all... Excerpt: He scowled and stood, then stumbled into her. For a moment, the front of her body pressed against his, those gorgeous curves she kept hidden under layered clothes and that ugly camouflage sweatshirt. Her warm, yeasty breath gusted against his throat, and her brown eyes flashed with something—awareness? Of its own accord, his hand went to her hip to steady himself, and he didn’t want to let go. Blood surged south and if he closed his eyes, he could envision covering her mouth with his, backing her against the bar and— Okay, maybe he didn’t have to close his eyes. He swallowed and waited for her to move away. When she didn’t—he did, nudging his chair out of the way when he did. “I’m good,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll walk you home. It’s late.” “I live across the street. There’s no traffic at this hour. I’ll be fine. What about you?” “I’m good. I’ll get this cleaned up and go home.” But she’d already gathered the bottles and carried them to the recycle bin behind the bar. He picked up her hand of cards and looked at them. “No wonder you were ready to call it a night. This is a crappy hand.” “You were dealing.” He gathered the cards and tucked them in a pocket on the felt table, then scooped the chips together and stacked them in a little slot. “You aren’t going to sort them?” she asked, returning to the table. “Not tonight.” He stepped back from the table and gestured for her to lead the way out of the bar. He locked up behind them, then, with a hand skimming the wooden rail, followed her down the stairs. The sky was beginning to brighten, just a little, and he looked toward the dock where his boat was tethered. “You aren’t thinking of going out, are you?” she asked, a bit of alarm in her voice. It would be a perfect morning for fishing. But, “No. Going to crash and hope that I can get through one more day with Gerry’s folks.”
Genre: Romance
Genre: Romance
Used availability for M J Fredrick's Leaving Bluestone