BLURB:
Soap maker and herbalist Isabelle Zander enjoys a good life in Georgia. She has her best friend, her favorite bar, and a job she loves. Plus, scorching memories of a one-night stand with a man who could very well be her soulmate. A man whose name she doesn’t know.
Isabelle’s idyllic life is upended by a mix-up with the mob, who thinks she stole a bagful of their money. What’s a girl in danger to do but drag her best friend to Haywood Lake, Florida, to live near her former Navy SEAL brother Colt? Surely she’ll be safe there.
Will Blake is searching for the perfect place to settle down, farm, and use the skills he acquired as a SEAL to protect the vulnerable. Following a friend’s advice, he finds the Brotherhood Alliance in Haywood Lake. Maybe its missions will be enough of a distraction to extinguish the memories of a hot one-night stand with a woman who left him wondering if there is such a thing as “the one.”
When fate brings his runaway flame to him, Will starts to think about love and second chances. But first, he’ll have to draw upon all of the skills he’s honed as a SEAL to keep her safe. Can Will and Isabelle’s budding romance survive deadly outside forces, or will they lose each other all over again?
Chapter 1
“This is the last time I’m busting you out of jail, Isabelle,” said Colt.
“Tsk. You exaggerate. This is only the first time,” Isabelle Zander countered. Then wished she hadn’t.
Hoo boy, her brother Colton Zander was pissed. His brown eyes, so much like hers, gave her the stare. The one he mastered as a Navy SEAL, the one that was supposed to scare her.
It didn’t intimidate her when she was younger, nor did it now. Isabelle knew her brother always had a soft spot for her and would always have her back, even if he was angry with her.
It wasn’t even her fault that she’d been arrested. She and her best friend, Felicia, had just met Serena Something at the Twisted Frog, the bar they frequented. It was a small honky-tonk outside Sandy Creek, Georgia, where she lived. Every Friday night they came to dance, relax—let their hair down.
The bar overlooked a river. On cool nights, patrons could sit outside with the heaters going, drinking beer and listening to country music. On warm nights, they were inside with the AC on full blast. The music was hot, and the drinks were cold. Perfect. The bar was run-down, the clientele was a little rough around the edges, and bar fights were not uncommon, but she and Felicia loved it there.
Serena had been so much fun that they decided to continue the party at her apartment. She offered to drive them back to get Felicia’s car when they were ready to leave, and that’s when they ran into trouble. They didn’t have much to drink at her place, but Serena had a lead foot. The cop pulled them over for speeding. Who knew a bag of weed was in the glove compartment?
Probably Serena, but it didn’t matter. Serena gave the cop attitude. Her license was expired. Turned out, she was also under twenty-one and had been served in a bar. They were all thrown in the pokey. Since it was too late to wake the judge, they had to spend the night.
And what an experience that was. One she never wanted to repeat. They shared the cell block with a man who sang at the top of his lungs, had a small bladder and peed all night. The town drunk was there too. He vomited continuously, so the place smelled like vomit and piss. They didn’t sleep a wink.
Lucky for her, the judge was an old friend of Colt’s. Colt just happened to be in town after visiting their parents in Atlanta before heading off to Haywood Lake, Florida, for God only knew what. He’d been searching for something ever since leaving the SEALs.
Since she and Felicia had no prior police record and confessed that they didn’t really know Serena, they were let go with a stern lecture from the judge and Colt.
Isabelle loved seeing her brother but not when he was getting her out of jail. He was always the golden child who followed the rules and made something of himself. She was the baby of the family and a wild child. So what if she couldn’t settle down or that she hadn’t found what she really loved in life or, for that matter, someone to love?
Thoughts of a tall, muscular drink of sexiness she met a couple of months ago filled her mind. She’d fallen into his arms like a wanton hussy. He made her feel like a queen, and he was the perfect one-night stand. Digger! She didn’t know his real name, just that he had ten magic fingers that made her body sing. All night long. By early morning, Isabelle snuck out while he slept. She took one last look at his perfect body, black hair, and chin scruff, before she put on her clothes, blew him a kiss, and slinked out of the motel. She hated to do it, but he was passing through and probably a lot more mature than she was.
No man deserved her brand of craziness.
“Isabelle, when are you going to do more with your business?” Colt’s voice brought her back to reality. He stood beside her car as she unloaded the soaps and lotions she sold at the farmers’ market. He was leaving today, and she’d miss him.
“Hey, look at me. I’m doing great.” She handed him a crate of soap. The scent of lavender and rose petals wafted up through the box. Her soap and lotions were fun to make, but she didn’t do it full-time, just when she wanted to or needed money.
He shook his head. “You work part-time and don’t make enough money to afford a decent apartment.” Colt pursed his lips. “I worry about you.”
“Don’t worry, big brother.” She patted him on the shoulder. “One of these days, I’ll have it figured out, and you’ll be proud of me.”
“Isabelle, I am proud of you.” Colt gave her a small smile. “I only worry because I love you. But one of these days, I might not be around if you get into real trouble.”
“Pffft. I can handle myself.” She waved him off with a reassuring smile.
Her brother sighed but helped her and Felicia move the rest of the boxes. After the boxes were unpacked and in her stall, Colt kissed her on the cheek, made her promise not to get into any more trouble and left. She would miss him but hopefully would see him soon.
The morning went well. They sold out of all the soaps and lotions. Isabelle thought about making more for the following weekend. Rent was due on their modest two-bedroom apartment, and they were short.
She packed the empty boxes into her van and closed it when she sensed a presence behind her. Isabelle turned quickly and almost bumped into a tall, dark-haired, bulky man. His face was pleasant enough, but his eyes were ice-cold arctic blue and staring at her.
“Um? Hi?”
“Isabelle?”
Isabelle cocked her head. “Yeah? Can I help you?” She looked at the boxes. “I’m sorry, I’m all sold out.”
“Don’t want soaps. You owe us something.”
What? Isabelle searched her mind. Yeah, she owed a little on a credit card, but she was up to date on payments. Besides, credit card companies didn’t send thuggy-looking guys to collect payment.
Did they?
“You stole some things from Serena, a big something that we want back.”
Felicia gulped.
Serena? “I don’t have anything of hers.” Isabelle turned away from him. “Besides, I don’t really know Serena. We only met once.”
He grabbed her shoulder and roughly spun her around to face him. The clip in her hair fell out, and she was sure her shoulder would have bruises. The man’s eyes were now a dark blue and just as menacing.
“Oh, but you do.” His cold stare made her shiver and not in a good way. “Fifty thousand dollars. The money she claims you and your friend stole from her apartment along with the drugs.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. “We’ve never stolen anything from her.”
The man puffed up his chest and pulled back his jacket to show her his gun.
Isabelle gulped. This was not good. Not good at all.
And where was Colt when she needed him?
On his way to Florida. Great.
“You have a week to get it to me.” He lowered his jacket. “I’ll be here next Saturday. Have it or else.”
The two women stared at each other. When Isabelle glanced around to look at the thug, he was gone. Gone like a shadow which probably meant he could appear again at any time. What the hell were they going to do? She couldn’t go to the cops. After all, they just released her from jail.
She could try to talk to Serena. No, that was a bad idea. Someone might be watching her place. Besides, Serena was a liar.
Felicia was wringing her hands. “Oh God. Oh God. What are we going to do?”
The only thing that made sense was to pack up their belongings and get out of town. The man would be back, and the next time, he wouldn’t be so nice. Nice? She shook her head.
They’d drive to Florida and find Colt. She didn’t have to tell him what happened, but they would be safe with him.
Chapter 2
Will Blake looked down at the long row of broccoli he’d just planted and wiped his brow. It was the end of October, and the seedlings he started in the greenhouse a couple of months ago were tough enough to stand outside on their own. There was nothing better than getting his hands in the dirt, planting for the future.
He’d grown up in New England, where most vegetable growers put their plants into the ground in late May after the last frost, so a southern planting schedule took some getting used to.
Truth be told, the closest he ever got to gardening growing up was pulling dandelions in a deserted lot filled with discarded beer cans and rubbish. The foster homes he lived in never had enough food for him to eat, let alone money or the resources for a garden.
He’d been in Florida for two months, and there were some things he was still getting accustomed to. Will’s former home base of San Diego had near-perfect weather, although it occasionally got uncomfortably warm or cold, especially at night.
While Haywood Lake was located closer to the top of the state and slightly cooler than the southern part, it still had plenty of humid days. He’d had enough humidity on some of the deployments he was on that it didn’t bother him much. However, he’d seen enough snow and ice growing up in the north that he didn’t want to deal with it when he settled down. The shoveling, the layers of warmth, the bitter cold—not for him anymore.
“Hey, I’ve got to head out soon,” said Zach Rogers. Zach was a member of the Brotherhood Alliance and had a free morning to help Will.
John “Tex” Keegan, a former SEAL and computer whiz, had recommended Haywood Lake and the Brotherhood Alliance when he learned Will was ready to put down roots and was searching for the perfect place to use his particular skills. Tex was famous in the SEAL community for having his fingers in lots of pots. Last Will heard, Tex was up north, living with the woman he loved, and had two girls.
Zach ran his fingers through his black hair and retrieved his shirt from the pole he’d thrown it over and pulled it over his head.
“What are you going to do with all the vegetables we planted?” he asked Will. “No way in hell you can eat all this by yourself.”
Will chuckled. “True. I’m toying with the idea of offering a basket to people of whatever was in season. CSA or community supported agriculture baskets are popular these days.”
Zach cocked his head. “How does a CSA work?”
“People pay a monthly fee and in return receive a box of whatever crops are producing that week.”
“Having extra money would sure help support the farm,” Zach replied.
Will nodded. “For sure the money would help support the farm, but I’m not ready to do that just yet.”
“Probably more work than you need right now, especially starting out,” said Zach. He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Glad I could help, but I have to get back to the center.”
Will reached out and shook Zach’s hand. “Appreciate the help.”
The gardening was done for now. They walked in comfortable silence back to the house, and Zach left. The guys at the Brotherhood Alliance came by occasionally to dig up a garden or build a shed.
This was his chance to fulfill a lifelong dream of owning a farm.
The CSA wasn’t Will’s only plan. He also planned on giving free, fresh vegetables to a couple of homeless shelters in town. Depending upon food banks when he was younger, he didn’t mind sometimes getting expired food even though it was still good or generic brands instead of the popular brands his friends ate. But it was disappointing not to get fresh vegetables and fruit, which were perishable.
Will had enough of rations, IEDs, mangled flesh, death, and sand to last a lifetime. He just wanted to feed people and protect the vulnerable. However, he didn’t need to be reminded that gardening was a different war, physically and emotionally. Crops could be destroyed by unknown insects; predators like deer, raccoons, woodchucks and even cute rabbits could ravish a garden in no time; the weather could devastate crops in minutes; but a garden connected a person to his humanity.
Chase Maddox, the leader of the Brotherhood Alliance, and the other guys who worked for him were welcoming. None of the men in the Brotherhood wanted to work for a structured company or go into law enforcement. Most had issues from the war that had to be addressed and just needed unstructured peace.
He and Titus “Ghost” Finch had arrived in Florida about the same time. He knew Titus from the teams, although not well. The other thing he learned was that the Brotherhood didn’t use nicknames.
It’d been a while since he’d heard “Digger,” but that was okay. It was a silly nickname given once his friends found out he wanted to farm. Besides, they weren’t in a war zone anymore. He didn’t have to worry about bad guys finding him, and most of all, as Chase explained, the townspeople needed to believe they were just ordinary men doing their jobs.
The Brotherhood was the perfect environment to use his skills, and Haywood Lake was the idyllic town to settle in. It was a bustling small city surrounded by lakes, parks and trees. If he wanted anything, it was available. One could call the downtown a chichi area. There were lots of restaurants, interesting shops, and lots of available farmland, as well as many rich people who holed up in their mansions surrounding the banks of Lake Haywood.
The money Will saved all his years in the service purchased thirty acres of prime farmland outside of town. Land that had never seen chemicals. A small farmhouse, barn, and chicken coop were already on the property, basically old but all in good shape.
Oh, and in front of the five acres he intended to garden, there was a new greenhouse. His pride and joy. He bought a thirty-foot greenhouse that was state of the art with a furnace and rows upon rows of planting shelves. Florida got cold occasionally, and after spending hours encouraging small seeds to sprout, he couldn’t let them freeze and die. It had automatic window openers for those humid days and was wind-resistant to one hundred fifty miles per hour because Florida was prone to hurricanes. The greenhouse came in pieces, and guys at the Brotherhood helped him build it. They weren’t into planting, but give a guy a hammer or drill and he was happy.
Will also bought assorted fruit trees: avocado, mango, lemon, lime, and fig. They wouldn’t produce for several years at best, but Will was a patient man.
He had laying hens in the coop and all the fresh eggs he could eat. The only thing left to be done was to install fencing on the property for some cattle and sheep, but that was down the line. At some point in time, he’d renovate the house, but since it was only he who lived in it, renovating wasn’t on the top of his list. Will had enough on his plate right now.
Will walked into the kitchen, washed the dirt from his hands, grabbed a cup of coffee, then headed out to the porch. He leaned gently against the back of his rocking chair, taking in the peaceful silence. A light wind was blowing, and the fresh scent of the pine trees surrounding the property wafted by. A sense of accomplishment washed over him. He was content, finally.
The only thing missing was a loving woman. Someone who could make him laugh, spark joy in his heart, and dance in the rain. He thought he’d found his soulmate, but she was miles away in Georgia.
He fingered the sticker with the logo she’d dropped as she snuck out of his bed before the sun came up. The design consisted of two blue fish intertwined. No name, nothing to identify where it came from or what it meant. It was as mysterious as the woman.