Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

Champagne And
Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary
Romance

By
Jean
Oram

One woman. Two men. One meddling small
town.

Raised by her older sister in the small town
of Blueberry Springs, all Beth Wilkinson wants is to create a
family so big she'll never be alone. Things are going great until
her accountant fiancé, Oz, experiences a family trauma, forcing him
to rethink everything from his own career to their nuptial
plans—leaving Beth alone.

As Beth works to rediscover her former bold
and independent self in hopes of reattracting Oz, she catches the
eye of the charming new city doctor, Nash. Not only does he see her
as she'd like to be seen, but he knows exactly what he wants from
life—and that includes Beth.

Torn between the two men, as well as two
versions of herself, Beth discovers that love and dreams are much
more complicated than they seem.

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Table of
Contents
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Champagne and Lemon
Drops

A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary
Romance

By Jean Oram

Copyright 2013 Jean Oram

ISBN: 978-0-9918602-0-3

Smashwords Edition

Contact Jean Oram by email
at
[email protected]

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Cover created by Cali
MacKay
www.coversbycali.com

Part 1: The Not Too Distant Future

(April)

Chapter 1

Beth worked to pull in a
deep breath against her gown's sleek fit. If she could breathe
properly, everything would feel exactly the way she had always
dreamed it would. She would know, without a grain of doubt, that
today was more than just a reaction to the events over the past
thirteen months. That
this
moment was her true destiny.

That she wasn't being a spaz. That she was
marrying the right man.

Because when life handed you an opportunity
you didn't turn your back or drag your feet. You made a choice and
you leapt.

Did Cinderella hesitate? Hell no. That girl
took the leap with both feet.

And right now, Beth was leaping. No
parachute required. Both feet in.

Well, almost.

Her sister, Cynthia, stepped closer to
adjust the veil around Beth's shoulders. She closed her eyes as she
breathed in her sister's familiar, reassuring perfume. "Here goes
nothing, right?"

Cynthia shook her head with a smile. "You
know, it's funny, I thought Gran and I would be giving you away
to—"

"I know."
Don't say his name.

Cynthia added quickly, "I just didn't expect
it."

"And I didn't expect Dad to be stuck
overseas and unable to give me away."

"Sure you didn't," Cynthia said, shooting
her a wry look. "He couldn't make my wedding, why should he make it
to yours?"

Beth stuck out her tongue. "He always liked
me best." She clasped her trembling hands, trying to force all
thoughts from her mind. Bad Cynthia. Stirring up thoughts and
worries. Bad, bad sister. Beth concentrated on happy images of
walking down the aisle. Her and her hubby would say their vows and
live happily ever after in a nice home and have a family so big
she'd be surrounded by people—her people—just like she'd always
wanted.

Cynthia fussed with the veil and Beth batted
her sister's hands away.

She ignored Cynthia's raised eyebrow which
meant she was trying to read Beth's mind. Her snoopy big sister
always had to know everything. Beth flashed her a smile. Cynthia
relaxed, tossing her head in a way that tousled her wavy hair
leaving it sexy and perfect and making Beth think of champagne and
movie stars and an easier life. Beth patted her slick chignon and
glanced in the mirror. Maybe she should have left her hair
down.

"You look fine, quit worrying," Cynthia
laughed.

Shouts erupted outside and Beth turned to
the window, her sister leaning over her shoulder. "What's going
on?"

Beth gave the foggy window a swipe with her
hand. "I can't see anything." She plunked down in the church's
window seat, her dress puffing up around her like a sea of whipped
cream. Below, a flash of crows bobbed on the walkway. No, tuxedos.
More shouts filtered up through the snow-laden trees.

She stood again, pressing her nose against
the cold glass to get a better look, and gasped.

This could
not
be
happening.

Stupid pigheaded, testosterone-driven
men!

"What?" Her sister crowded against the
glass. "What?"

Beth gathered the folds of her skirt and
shouldered past her sister.

"You can't go! It's bad luck if he sees
you!"

"Oh, I'll show those men some bad luck,"
Beth muttered, wrenching open the heavy door. She took the stairs
as fast as she could, restricted by her heels and fluttering tulle.
She reached the front doors of the church in time to witness her
fiancés—past and present—position themselves to duke it out.

One fit form ducked, dodging a punch from
the other. Shoes lost traction on the icy steps and a body twisted
and arched through the air. A man's mouth stretched into a perfect,
comical O. In slow motion he landed head first, his body grinding
into the walkway like a broken bird falling from the sky.

A scream broke the silence. Hers. She
screamed, unable to stop, the terror of the scene freezing her in
place before adrenalin kicked in, propelling her through the
gathering crowd and toward the unconscious heap—the man she loved.
Gingerly she touched the fallen man's face as the other man she
loved was herded back by a dark wall of groomsmen.

She looked at her blood-covered fingers.
This was going to change things. She could feel it. Her nuptial bad
luck had caught up and snared her like an unsuspecting mouse
heading for its free cheese.

There wasn't enough oxygen. The world spun
rapidly to the right and she couldn't breathe. A blurred vision of
dress hems and shiny black shoes was the last thing she saw before
collapsing on top of the wounded man.

PART 2: Where It All Begins

(13 Months Ago)

Chapter 2

Beth dropped her purse and work ID at the
door and, not smelling any hints of soup being heated in the
kitchen by her fiancé, entered the trailer's cozy living room.
Seeing Oz slumped on their worn velvet couch, she plunked down
beside him, her stomach grumbling for its lunch. She leaned against
his arm, but instead of wrapping it around her like he usually did,
his posture stiffened.

"What?" she asked. She surreptitiously
sniffed her armpits. Not her favorite scent, but it sure beat body
odor.

Oz subtly shifted from side to side, his
broad shoulders leaning into her as he echoed the movements of the
football player on TV. When they were teens, his size and strength
intimidated her before she saw him using it to gently retrieve Mrs.
Everett's kitten from the oak on Main. Watching the
sixteen-year-old hand the fluffball back to her owner with a
sweetness she hadn't seen in other boys, her heart had grown warm,
and she'd vowed to find a way to catch his attention as something
more than just his kid sister's best friend and to have those beefy
arms wrapped tight around her. While she figured out how to go
about doing that, Mandy had swooped in with her long mane of glossy
blond hair, lithe body, and a knowledge of all things mechanical
that Beth had absolutely no interest in matching. When Oz, smitten
with Mandy and her seemingly bold sexuality as well as her divine
homemade brownies, took Mandy to the end of year dance Beth had
bowed out gracefully—before Oz had even noticed her shy attempts.
For almost eight years Beth had ignored her persistent crush and
dated others, disappointed as each of them failed to compare to the
man she saw in Oz.

Fresh out of college two and a half years
ago, Beth returned home to take the recreational therapist position
at the town's hospital which served the surrounding semi-isolated
mountain and foothill areas. She'd thought she was over her
childhood crush until a freshly single Oz came in to visit his
elderly aunt in the continuing care wing—which was simply an old
folks home tacked onto the hospital for those requiring medical
monitoring and attention. When Beth began the physical therapy
dance session for her patients he was still in the common room,
patiently watching his aunt flip through an old photo album. Always
in need of more male partners, he'd obliged her request with a
broad smile and stepped in to dance with his aunt as well as a few
others. Watching him move smoothly around the room, smiling and
laughing with her beloved patients, she'd fallen harder than a
400lb gorilla trying to ice skate. She invited him for coffee and
pie in the cafeteria afterwards as a thank you and he'd never
missed a dance session since.

Well, until two months ago when his father
had a heart attack, forcing Oz to spend insane hours in the shared
accounting business in order to keep it afloat. But beyond the
busyness, there was something up. She couldn't see it, smell it, or
put her finger on it, but it was there like a flash in her
periphery. It felt like a breakup. Which was silly. Completely
silly. They were planning their upcoming wedding and even saving up
for a bigger place.

But she still couldn't shake the
feeling.

It was as though something
she couldn't see had shifted. Lately Oz had been concerned about
her following her dreams even though she told him she
was
following them. Her
future was mapped out. She loved her job. But Oz kept telling her
there was more to her life. To their life.

She pulled her Dream Home scrapbook off the
coffee table and set it on her lap as reassurance. She flipped to
the photo of a wrap-around veranda with a double swing where they
would sit and talk about their days. She needed a picture of a
white picket fence to keep the future family dog in the yard and
maybe one of a Golden Lab as well. Oz had sketched in a floor plan
that included enough bedrooms for a couple of kids and a guest and
she studied his tight writing, smiling at the walk-in closet where
she could store her wardrobe without taking over Oz's side. Two and
a half months ago, Oz had given her the latest clippings that she'd
added to the yard section: a hot tub and a gazebo. And that was the
last time he had expressed interest.

"Hey, Oz?" she asked, looking at the loose
clippings of 'undecideds' in the back. "What do you think? Oak or
maple cabinets? And apple trees or lilacs in the front? Or
both?"

Oz shrugged. Beth shifted to face him. There
was something beyond him being overwhelmed with taking care of the
business going on. More than his father's heart attack and the fact
that the air between father and son was strung so tight with live
wires that she worried one of them would trip and cause an
explosion.