Holiday in Danger
Authors: Marie Carnay
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Holidays, #Military, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
HOLIDAY IN DANGER
Marie Carnay
OPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2015 by Marie Carnay.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The use of stock photo images in this e-book in no way imply that the models depicted personally endorse, condone, or engage in the fictional conduct depicted herein, expressly or by implication. The person(s) depicted are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.
This book is for sale to mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit situations and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store this e-book where it cannot be accessed by minors.
Editor: Jersey Devil Editing
Cover Image: Deposit Photos
ABLE
OF
C
ONTENTS
HOLIDAY IN DANGER
MARIE CARNAY
* * *
One curvy chef, two sexy protectors. Sometimes danger is the perfect recipe for love.
With her best friend’s catering business on the line, pastry chef Holiday Jones comes back to the hometown she’d kissed goodbye. When she runs into two men from her past, her trip down memory lane turns into so much more. Caught between the former boy next door and the bad boy from down the street, Holiday might discover Midnight Cove is the place where dreams come true—if she stays alive long enough to find out.
Billionaire Ian Knowles has a problem ex-military man Trent Malone can solve. But a chance meeting with a curvy beauty from their past sends Ian and Trent into a tailspin of lust. When Holiday gets caught in the crossfire, can they find a way to save her and share her heart?
With its stunning ocean views and men too sexy to resist, Midnight Cove has everything a curvy woman could want—times two.
Holiday In Danger
is the second book in the
Midnight Cove Ménage
series of standalone, full-length novels. Cliffhanger free!
* * *
SIGN UP FOR MARIE’S NEWSLETTER FOR NEW RELEASES, GIVEAWAYS, NEWS AND MORE
* * *
HAPTER
O
NE
HOLLY
A
DOLLOP
OF
chocolate buttercream landed on the counter and Holly wiped it away with a towel.
“I can’t believe how little this place has changed.” She reached for an icing bag and a star-shaped tip.
Hillary paused to look out the window, a stack of polka-dotted dessert plates in her hand. “It looks the same on the outside, but the people have changed. A lot of the old money’s moved on. There’s a bunch of new people here. Surfers. Artists. Some down-to-earth ones, even.”
Holly’s eyebrow arched with a
yeah, right
look. In the two days she’d been back in Midnight Cove she’d already been passed by more Maseratis and Bentleys than she’d seen in Los Angeles in a whole month. Down-to-earth didn’t come rolling by in a sports car.
She piped a cluster of frilly pink roses onto the cake and tried to focus. Hillary meant well trying to get her to see the good in Midnight Cove. How it wasn’t the place she’d run away from at eighteen. It was part of Hillary’s quest to change this one-month layover into a permanent thing. But that wasn’t happening. No way.
Her best friend tried again. “I mean it. A lot of the old crowd left. They’ve moved to LA or New York. Seattle, even. Midnight Cove’s not what it used to be.”
Holly paused, the bag full of icing hovering above the cake. “Really? And who is this mountain of chocolate and cabbage roses for again?”
Hillary huffed and pushed a lock of her brown hair away with the back of her hand. “Patricia Randall. But that doesn’t mean anything. Yes, some people are still here. But not all of them.”
Holly rolled her eyes and focused on the cake. “Brandon’s still here. You’re never going to get me to move back.”
Her best friend stacked ruffled pink napkins next to the plates and her brown eyes sparkled. “Is that a challenge?”
Oh, no.
The last thing Hillary needed was encouragement. Holly could see it now. A huge campaign waged by her best friend to bring her back to town. She’d probably make flyers.
Holiday Jones for Relocation! Everybody Mobilize!
Holly shook her head. “No. You know I can’t stay. I’ve got a month left of severance and I’m here until it runs out. Then I’m back to Los Angeles and the restaurant world.”
“You could stay here and help me out until you start something new. You know I need you.”
“What you need is an assistant, someone who can help with the food prep, not just the baking. I’m not that girl.”
Hillary sighed. “Could have fooled me. Those mushrooms you made for the dinner last night were perfect. What’d you do?”
“Just some butter and shallots. Same way I make them at home.”
“Well, they were better than mine, anyway.” Hillary pulled a fancy bag with
Cove Catering
stenciled on the side out from under the counter. Holly still couldn’t believe Hillary had moved back home. She didn’t come from money—her dad ran the commercial dock on the edge of town and her mom stayed home with the kids. She’d been picked on in school just like Holly, but it never seemed to bother her.
Holly still remembered how the boys would call Hillary “chicken legs” and prance around squawking. Her best friend had shot up in junior high. Five foot ten and all bones and skin. It’d taken her years to fill out and lose the gangly look. In between, all the boys had teased her nonstop, but after college she’d come right back.
Now Holly was back, too, and part of her wished she’d stayed away. After finishing the last rose, she glanced up. “Why’d you come back here, anyway? Of all the places you could have opened up a catering business, why Midnight Cove?”
Her best friend glanced out the window as she thought about it. “I guess I wanted to be home. My mom and dad are still here. Bethany, too. But even more than family, it’s the feel of the town—the ocean right there and all the little houses perched against the shore—I love it. Even if some of the people stink.”
Holly nodded and picked up the plastic-wrapped ball of fondant. She didn’t have a family to come home to, but she understood about the town. “I’ve been in LA so long I’d forgotten how lush it is here. I drove down Main this morning and the bougainvillea are in full bloom. All those purples and reds bursting over the doorways all down the street. Spectacular.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed it.”
Holly shrugged. “Sometimes. But then I think about what I left behind and remember why I moved away.”
“You have a point.” Hillary packed the bag, putting plates and napkins and silverware in tidy bundles inside while Holly worked the fondant.
She rolled out the icing in a smooth, even layer before punching little green leaves out one at a time. With expert fingers, Holly laid each one beneath the piped roses until the whole cake was covered in a garden of leaves and blooms.
She stepped back with a smile. She loved a pretty cake. “There. I’m done. What do you think?”
Hillary squealed as she hustled over. “Oh, Holly. It’s beautiful. Ms. Randall will love it.”
“Good. So where do I put it?”
Hillary winced. “The van?”
Her smile disappeared. “You can’t be serious.”
“She wanted it there early. No later than two.”
Holly glanced at her watch. One fifteen.
Crap
. She hated transporting cakes anywhere. Especially three-tier cakes covered in fancy icing. But she was there to help Hillary, not make more work.
She grabbed a towel and tucked it into her apron. “All right. I’ll put it in the van. But you owe me. You know I hate driving the finished product around.”
Hillary reached out and wrapped her up in a huge hug. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
Holly smiled. “I’ll keep you to that.” She slid her fingers under the edge of the cake and lifted it off the counter. With a deep breath, she turned toward the door.
“Can you manage that all right? Do you need my help?”
“I’ve got it. It’s one thing this behind of mine is good for. Opening doors.”
“All right. I’m going to grab the rest of the supplies from the stock room in back.”
“Gotcha!” Holly’s voice carried around the mountain of frosting and cake. With solid steps, she made her way to the front door, turning around to push it open with her butt.
The door swung open and Holly swung with it, turning in an arc toward the outside and straight into something solid and warm…with a voice.
“What the…? Shit!” A man cursed and mumbled from the other side of the disaster, his dress shirt covered in a smear of chocolate and pink.
Holly shrieked. “Oh my God. I am so sorry. Are you all right? Let me help you.” She pulled the remnants of all her hard work away and her mouth fell open.
Buzzed brown hair. Dark eyes full of fire. Locked jaw. Sexy and mad as hell. Holly clamped her mouth shut and pulled out her towel. She wiped off a section of his shirt before the man snatched it out of her fingers. His skin brushed hers and she bit her lip. Damn if he wasn’t just her type. Too bad his first impression was smashed frosting and triple fudge cake.
“I’m really sorry. I should have looked where I was going.”
He wiped another blob of pink and brown off his shirt and paused. His eyes tracked up and down and everywhere his gaze lingered, she tingled. At last, he raised an eyebrow. “Holiday?”
What?
She frowned. “I’m sorry? Do I know you?”
The man ran his tongue across his lower lip and tasted the icing. “It’s Trent. Trent Malone.”
Holly swallowed.
No way.
Color rose up her cheeks and she pushed her hair off her face as she took a second look. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been riding away on a beast of a motorcycle. Long hair, leather jacket, piercings up one ear—that’s the Trent she remembered.
“You’ve changed.”
His eyes flicked down and back up. “So have you.” He handed her back the towel and held out his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Holiday.”
Holly wiped her hand on her apron before sliding her fingers over his. “It’s Holly now.” His grip tightened and images of his strong hands pinning her to the wall flashed inside her mind.
She needed to get it together. Trent might not look like the bad boy of her teenage memories, but that didn’t mean he’d changed on the inside. He could still be a class-A heartbreaker. Even if he’d grown up.