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Spring Fever
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Spring Fever
Deborah Cooke
Deborah A. Cooke
Contents
Spring Fever
Secret Heart Ink
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
One Hot Summer Night
Thank you!
About the Author
More Books by the Author
Spring Fever
Secret Heart Ink #2
Reyna knows happily-ever-after isn’t in her future...
But after three years of solitude, Reyna is ready for a fling. She’s learned her lesson with bad boys and long-term expectations, so her neighbor’s visiting nephew is the perfect man to lead into temptation. But Kade has a gift for breaking her rules and ensuring Reyna doesn’t regret it, which means one night becomes two...
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Kade believes in putting the past where it belongs...
Kade was always waiting for the right woman, and one night with Reyna convinces him that he’s found her. It’s more than great sex and good conversation: Reyna’s determination to shape her life inspires him to rebuild his own, and he knows they’ll be a great team. All he has to do is convince her to take a chance on him and forever. When Reyna’s past catches up to them both, will it destroy their new partnership before the future begins?
Spring Fever
By Deborah Cooke
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Copyright 2018 Deborah A. Cooke
All rights reserved.
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Without limiting the rights under copyright preserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher of this book.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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Secret Heart Ink
Flatiron Five has a new tattoo shop—run by the enigmatic and legendary tattoo artist Chynna. When the moon is full, Chynna creates one tattoo to set two hearts afire and gives it away, with the goal of making romantic dreams come true. Who will be next?
Secret Heart Ink is a series of short contemporary romances set in the same world as Deborah’s Flatiron Five series of contemporary romances.
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1. Snowbound
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2. Spring Fever
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3. One Hot Summer Night (coming soon)
Prologue
Secret Heart Ink, Manhattan—Sunday, April 29
Reyna was lying on the padded table in Chynna’s tattoo shop, her eyes closed as she concentrated on the music. She could almost ignore the buzz of the tattoo gun on the back of her neck. She had a butterfly tattoo there, the insect’s body on her spine and the wings spread almost to her shoulders. It had been just a black outline for three years, but Chynna was finally adding color, at Reyna’s request.
It was time.
Reyna couldn’t believe she was back in Manhattan at all, never mind that she’d visited the city twice in a month. She fought her urge to run back to Maine immediately, knowing that the chances of her seeing anyone she knew were so slim as to be nonexistent.
She was safe.
But she’d be more convinced of it once she got back to Honey Hill.
“What happened with your friend?” Chynna asked, pausing. Reyna knew from experience that the other woman was considering her work from different angles, making sure it was right before continuing.
“Olivia?”
“Was that her name? The one who was here for the official opening.” She paused and adjusted her position. “Kind of reserved, at least compared to the two of you.”
Reyna smiled, knowing that she and Lexi were much more flamboyant than Olivia. “Olivia. She won the tattoo from you.”
Chynna made a sound of agreement, then began to work again.
“Don’t you know what happened?” Reyna teased. “With your tarot cards and the moon’s magic and all?”
“It’s better when someone tells me the end of the story.”
Reyna gave her the executive summary. “She took a chance and decided to seduce Spencer. Her plan was to get him out of her system, but they were snowed in before she could leave. We couldn’t pick her up on time and he figured it out. Maybe he knew all along. He tried to win her over. She still went to England once the plows got through, though.”
“No one says the story is finished.”
“Certainly not Spencer. Apparently, he’s pretty grumpy.”
“Then maybe he’ll take advantage of the moon’s magic and change the ending.”
“What was the last tarot card?”
“Tristan hasn’t told me yet.”
Reyna turned to look at Chynna, who had stopped the tattoo gun. “Do you really believe in that stuff?”
Chynna was changing the color of ink, but Reyna sensed that it wasn’t an accident that her gaze was averted. The other woman spoke carefully. “I believe that a person can make anything happen if they have faith in themselves.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed how many people find love when they’re open to it?”
“About as many as don’t find it when they’re looking for it.”
Chynna made a non-committal sound beneath her breath. “I could argue that they’re looking too hard or searching for a prize, or social status, which isn’t the same as making yourself receptive to love.”
Reyna closed her eyes again. “I wouldn’t know. I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Chynna worked for a few moments in silence and Reyna thought about the artist’s own love life—or what she knew of it. “You miss him, don’t you?” she asked, knowing the reference would be understood.
“Every moment of every day,” Chynna said, her voice heartfelt.
There was nothing Reyna could say to that. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone again, not since her colossal mistake, and she certainly couldn’t imagine missing anyone more than she missed her parents and grandmother. She’d felt as if a piece of herself had been stolen away when her dad had died, then again when her mom had died, and a third time when her grandmother had passed. With a true partner, as Chynna had had, the sense of loss would have to be a million times worse.
Maybe it was better that she’d learned to be alone.
Maybe scars sometimes defended you from future injury.
“If anything I do helps someone to make that change in their perspective, the one that invites love into their life, I can only believe that to be a good thing,” Chynna mused, leaning closer to color a tiny area with precision. Reyna felt the other woman’s breath on her skin but didn’t shiver. “And if that person needs a visible reminder, like a little red tattoo heart, to believe that they’re lovable and that there’s a partner out there for them, I’m good with supplying it.”
“And the bit about the moon?”r />
“The moon always looks favorably on affairs of the heart, on intuition and feelings.”
Tristan cawed from his perch at that, as if in agreement. Reyna glanced up to find the raven watching, as if he was supervising Chynna’s work, his bright eyes gleaming. “How old is he now?”
“I don’t know.” Chynna paused to glance at the bird. “I’ve had him five years and he was an adult when I got him from the bird shelter.”
Reyna remembered why Chynna had needed company then, and knew well enough to steer the conversation away from that phase of her life. “Where did he come from?”
“They didn’t know. But he talked, which indicated that he’d been with people. He understood about cages and light switches and shoe laces—”
“And opening latches on cupboards.”
Chynna laughed. “That, too. But he didn’t seem to know what to do when they put him outside. I’m not sure if he’d survive out there. He might not have the skills to defend himself or find his own food.”
Tristan cawed again, bobbing his head with enthusiasm.
“I think he likes being with you.”
Chynna smiled. “I like having him around. He’s good company. Turn a bit now and I’ll finish this right wing.”
Reyna moved as instructed and sighed.
“Did you really only come back to Manhattan to see me?” Chynna asked.
“I wouldn’t let anyone else color your work. It wouldn’t be right.”
Chynna seemed to consider that and Reyna braced herself for a more probing question. She was surprised when it didn’t come immediately.
The last thing she’d done in Manhattan before fleeing the city had been to get this tattoo. The butterfly was a mark of her freedom, and maybe of her vulnerability.
“Why are you coloring it in after all this time?”
Reyna almost shrugged, then realized just in time that the move would be a bad idea when there was a tattoo gun against her back. “It looks too different from everything else.”
“Maybe you’ve come full circle,” Chynna suggested softly.
“In what way?”
“It was the last tattoo I did for you. Such a big piece in a prominent place must have had meaning. Maybe making it bright indicates a change in perspective.”
“It’s just the design,” Reyna insisted, something tightening in her gut.
“I remember how insistent you were about it. It had to be exactly right.”
“All my tattoos had to be exactly right,” Reyna said, feeling as if she sounded defensive. “This one was no different.” She took a steadying breath, knowing that she wasn’t ready to surrender the truth. “It should look less different from all the others so it blends in. That’s why it needs color.”
Chynna shrugged. “Maybe you’re integrating the experience that prompted the tattoo into your perspective.”
“Maybe it’s just ink,” Reyna countered.
Chynna wiped her work, then stepped back. She tilted her head, admiring the result, and Reyna waited for the little smile of satisfaction.
When it curved Chynna’s lips, Reyna smiled too.
Relief flooded through her, because she’d be on her way out of the city soon.
Chynna met her gaze. “You can run now,” she said, showing that uncanny understanding of Reyna’s thoughts. “Put on your armor and hide your heart safely away again.” She moved to clean her tools.
“Are you suggesting that I’m afraid of something?” Reyna said as she sat up. Chynna brought a hand mirror and showed her the butterfly. Even a bit puffy, it was exquisitely beautiful with the added color and exactly what she’d wanted.
“Everyone’s afraid of something,” Chynna said mildly. “Just because you aren’t running as hard doesn’t mean you’re invulnerable. Like your butterfly. It might not get caught by a predator, but it’s still a delicate creature that can come to harm.”
Reyna shivered. “I don’t want to even think about that.”
Chynna continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “But the butterfly doesn’t hide under the eaves or stay in its cocoon, trapped by its fragility. It heads out into the world in search of nectar.”
“To survive.”
“But if it’s lucky, it’ll do more than survive. It’ll help flowers and fruits to reproduce and even reproduce itself.”
“I don’t think butterflies have as much fun with that as we do.”
Chynna laughed. “Probably not.” She sobered. “But we need that contact, Reyna. Just because you claimed your freedom and flew out of danger doesn’t mean you should hide away.”
Reyna lifted her hands, indicating herself. She was dressed in red and black, wearing her favorite rockabilly jeans and red boots, a tight white blouse and a red bandana in her hair. “I’m not exactly easy to overlook.”
“That’s just the surface and you know it. How many people get to see the real you?”
“As many as deserve it.”
Chynna nodded. “And I’m thinking that’s a very low number right now. That it has been a low number for a few years.”
“What difference does it make?” Reyna felt agitated by their discussion, but was interested as well. It wouldn’t be all bad to lose the last increment of her anxiety about the past.
Chynna picked up another tattoo gun, one that Reyna knew was a particular favorite. “Will you indulge me with an experiment?”
“What kind of experiment?”
“The full moon is today, but the club at F5 isn’t open because it’s a Sunday.” Chynna met Reyna’s gaze and smiled as she held up the tattoo gun. “Let me give your butterfly a heart.”
“You said it wasn’t magic.”
“I didn’t say that. I said that a visible sign helps some people manifest change in their own lives. Maybe that is magic.”
Reyna looked at the tattoo gun. She looked at Tristan, who was watching avidly. She didn’t believe Chynna, not really—the tattoo hadn’t worked for Olivia, after all—but she was tempted. If nothing else, she’d collect a tiny bit of ink that was special.
She spun around on the table, presenting her back to Chynna before she could change her mind. “Okay. Let’s do it. And thank you.” Then she closed her eyes as the gun buzzed against her skin again.
And despite her skepticism, Reyna made a wish.
Chapter One
Honey Hill, Maine—Tuesday, May 15
The little heart on the butterfly tattoo burned.
It felt like it was on fire, which was bizarre because the rest of the tattoo didn’t hurt at all. It had healed beautifully, all of it, but Reyna could feel that little heart.
All the time.
It almost pulsed.
It wasn’t painful, just always present. A reminder. It made her think about her conversation with Chynna and mull on it more than she would have otherwise. It made her think about her wish not to be alone anymore, the one she never thought would come true.
Even more odd, the heart had heated up a notch when she’d heard that Olivia had called Spencer from England and that he’d flown there the same day. The story in town was that they were coming back to Honey Hill together, as a couple.
Had Chynna’s tattoo worked for Olivia?
Even if it hadn’t, even if Reyna discarded the whole situation and its resolution as coincidence, there was still this insistent warmth on the back of her shoulders.
It made her think about possibilities.
It made her remember things she wanted to forget or at least never experience again. Once was enough for some events.
But despite her painful memories, Reyna found herself yearning for the feel of a man’s hands on her skin. She didn’t miss being in a relationship, the expectations and the compromises, and all the drama. She missed sex, though. Slow, thorough sex. There really wasn’t a good substitute for a gorgeous man determined to please. Just the thought made her yearn a little more. She’d been as chaste as a nun for three years and this spring, the status quo wasn’t nearly g
ood enough. She was impatient. Ready for a caress. More than ready to take a chance.
If this was spring fever, Reyna knew how to get rid of it.
One man.
One night.
Multiple mind-blowing orgasms.
It sounded like a great plan and a simple formula, but there was one considerable snag. There were many things Reyna loved about living in the town of Honey Hill, but the very low number of eligible men wasn’t one of them. Initially, she’d felt safer with so few men her age in the vicinity, but as her confidence had returned, she’d begun to see the situation as less than ideal.
If Reyna ignored the guys she didn’t think were attractive, the ones who were too old or too young, the ones she’d heard strange stories about, and the ones she knew weren’t interested in her, the list of candidates became very, very small.
In fact, there was just one potential recipient of her affections.
Kade Sullivan.
Reyna knew she wasn’t the only one who had noticed the arrival of one very eligible, very hot male in Honey Hill. The nephew of the retired couple who lived across the street from Reyna, Kade was obviously close to his aunt and uncle. He’d come to stay, apparently to help them with some maintenance on their home. He was maybe a couple of years older than Reyna, trim and muscular. Reyna had appreciated the view of him on their roof when he’d checked the chimneys, his tall figure silhouetted against the sky. He walked the main street of Honey Hill at regular intervals, from one end of the block to the other, as he made his way to the general store for supplies. Reyna was at the window of her shop each and every time he passed by. She just couldn’t resist a look.