From This Moment On: Heartwarming Contemporary Romance (Windswept Bay Book 1)

Table of Contents

Title Page

Description

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

More Books in the Windswept Bay Series

About the Author

Copyright

FROM THIS MOMENT ON

Windswept Bay Book One

DEBRA CLOPTON

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From This Moment On:

Hurt by her failed marriage and dashed dreams, Cali Sinclair returns home to Windswept Bay with her heart wary and closed to the dreams of true love she so desperately wanted. Determined to never again risk her heart, she throws herself into running the family’s small boutique resort on the Florida coast, a place so full of romance that it’s a reminder every day of what she’ll never have. But when renowned artist Grant Ellington shows up to paint a mural on the wall of the resort, she’s swept away by her response to the artist. Suddenly, every time he looks at her, Cali finds it harder than she ever thought possible to keep her heart protected.

Grant Ellington loves his ranch, his horses, and his life as a sought-after artist. But after walking away from a plane crash that killed his best friend and the young pilot, he’s still struggling with survivor’s guilt as he heads to Windswept Bay. Painting a sea life mural at the resort started out as a favor to his neighbor, but one meeting with the beautiful Cali and he feels alive again—and determined to spend time on the moonlit beaches with her in his arms…

But, like him, Cali has her own emotional scars—can they learn to trust the love that sparks between them and move forward from this moment on?

Chapter One

Turbulence rattled the plane and Grant Ellington’s nerves at the same time. Digging his fingers into the armrest, he stared out the window and focused on the topaz water below as he struggled to ignore the pounding of his heart. A tall order considering this was his first flight after living through a plane crash six months ago. A crash that he’d lived through and two men hadn’t. Two good men.

Grant leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His heart ached. He’d lost his best friend, David, that day and the young wife of the charter pilot lost her husband. Both men had been good men and they’d perished while Grant had walked away with barely a scratch.

It was hard for him to understand. Hard for him to know why he’d lived and they hadn’t.

The rough-riding 747 dipped. Grant’s mouth went dry as the memory of lightning striking the small charter plane on its final approach erupted in a flashback…something he hadn’t overcome yet and wasn’t sure he ever would.

Six endless months and he was still numb and dazed by the loss of the other two men. Their deaths clung to him every moment of the day and most sleepless nights.

Suddenly, the giant 747 lurched violently and his heart slammed into his ribs. “Give me a break,” he muttered. He stared out the first class window as the plane crossed from the blue water to flying over land as icy fingers seemed to claw at his insides. “Where’s the
blasted
runway?” he growled.

“It’ll be okay, dear.”

The soft, crackly Southern drawl startled him and he looked to find the tiny, older lady in the seat next to him awake and smiling gently. She’d been snoring peacefully in her seat for the entire trip. Now, she laid a fragile hand on his wrist and patted warm fingers against his clammy skin. He blinked at her, certain he looked like a deer in headlights. He willed his heart to stop racing, willed the panic attack to go away. Wished belatedly that he’d bought the ticket to the seat beside him so there would have been no witness to his breakdown.

But no, she watched him with kind eyes—or more than likely, pity-filled eyes.

He hated pity.

It was especially humiliating considering her snoring had been indication enough that she wasn’t in the least bit worried about the flight.

She tapped her fingertips to his damp skin. “You’re sweating like a water sprinkler. I have a sister who has a fear of flying. She does the same thing. Wringing wet like a dishrag when we finally stop.”

He related to the other woman enduring the ride while sitting beside her cool-as-a-cucumber sister. He rubbed the furrows between his eyes. It didn’t matter that he’d lived through disaster; it was still demoralizing that she knew he was terrified.

She leaned closer; the faint scent of gardenias wafted his way. “I don’t mind the flight myself, but I’ve always hated the landings so don’t feel bad,” she said, as if reading his mind. “However, I say my prayers every time the captain tells us to prepare for landing and then I leave it to God. It works
wonders
for your nerves.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t point out that she’d snored straight through the captain’s announcement to prepare for landing so her prayers hadn’t been said this trip. The plane shuttered and instantly her startlingly, firm hand grasped his forearm and squeezed. His gaze locked onto hers.

She smiled and then smoothed her hand over Grant’s taut muscle. “I don’t mind saying that it makes me feel better knowing that a big, strapping man such as yourself can be terrified of landings too.” She blinked innocently behind her glasses. “It’ll make my sister feel better too.”

“Thanks.”
I guess
. He grimaced a smile and told himself she’d been trying to make him feel better,
not
make him feel worse than he had five minutes ago.

“Oh, it was
my
pleasure.” Her hand moved to his bicep and her eyes widened. “These arms of yours are hard as petrified timber,” she drawled, making the word sound more like
timba.
“Do you do a lot of ranch work?”

How did she know he ranched? “Some,” he managed over the lump, glad he sounded halfway normal. Truth was he owned a small ranch but leased his grazing land to his neighbor Cam Sinclair, allowing Cam’s cattle to graze on Grant’s land. The arrangement worked out well for both of them because he was too busy with his art and traveling to raise cattle and tend to his land himself. At least, he had been too busy traveling prior to the crash. He hadn’t painted or traveled since.

And still wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Cam. He’d owed Cam and always paid his debts…but this debt was paid in full after this.

“I always did love a man in boots and Wranglers.” She squeezed his tense muscle hard and then cooed, “Oh my, that’s nice. If my niece wasn’t already getting married, I’d get your number for her. Ha—if I was thirty years
young-a,
I’d get it for myself.”

Grant stared at the little lady, unsure how to answer her or even whether an answer was appropriate. A dull throb started behind his eyes as he tried to figure out a way to extract his arm from her grasp.

He looked out the window just as the plane touched down. He stared back at the smug-looking lady as the wheels made connection with the runway.

She winked. “And here we are. Safe and sound.” She gave his arm one last pat before she calmly folded her hands in her lap. “I hope you’re about to enjoy some of this beautiful weather and gorgeous water we have here on the coast.”

Still a little delayed reacting, the tension in his body eased as he leaned back into the seat while the plane taxied toward the small airport terminal. “I’m hoping to. I’ll be heading over the bridge to Windswept Bay.”

“Such a lovely area. It’s very quaint in many ways and far less commercialized than St. Pete’s. My niece is getting married there next month at the lovely small resort there. Is that where you’ll be staying?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I hear that famous painter of sea life is coming to paint one or two of his beautiful murals on the walls. I can’t recall his name, but his work is amazing. It will truly make the quaint resort stand out.”

Grant caught himself before he said thank-you—because he was the painter she was referring to. Not keen on revealing his identity to the pint-sized woman who’d just seen him sweat out the plane landing, he kept that information to himself.

Thirty minutes later, after grabbing his gear, he slumped into the backseat of the town car the resort had sent for him and finally relaxed as the car traveled down the highway and at last, over the small bridge to Windswept Bay.

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling of the car. He’d made it through the first step.

Now, if he could just make himself paint.

From the cliffs of Lookout Point, Cali Sinclair breathed in the salty scent of the air as she paused her morning jog to enjoy the beauty from the high vantage point. The blue waters of the bay stretched below her and in the distance, she saw two dolphins jump from the shimmering water in a picture-perfect moment. The beauty of it tugged at her heart.

It was good to be home back on the bay.

She was home and she would never let herself be persuaded to leave again.

When she checked her watch, she realized she’d lingered longer than she’d intended. She headed down the rugged path as she fought off the wave of nerves that she’d hoped the jog would subdue. But nope, the nasty nerves remained like day-old tuna left on the counter—totally and completely unable to deny any longer. Yes, she was rattled and, despite everything she’d told herself, she knew it was because her first meeting with Grant Ellington was less than an hour away.