The Problem: Crystal Cove, #5
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About this ebook
A cursed bracelet. A marriage of convenience that is highly inconvenient. And a town full of hopeless romantics.
I have three big problems.
One: I received a beautiful bracelet as a birthday gift from my aunt, which doesn't sound like such a terrible thing . . . until I learn that this antique jewelry comes with a fun bonus: owning it means I'm going to fall in love. And being notoriously gun-shy, that's something that I can't risk.
Two: In an effort to get rid of said bracelet, I just might have ended up a little bit married to my long-time best friend, Blake. It's a complicated story that involves booze, blackjack and Vegas. Enough said.
Three: Now I'm holed up in my cousin Abby's hotel in Crystal Cove, Florida, hoping to hide from Blake, ditch the cursed bracelet and get back to my real life. But the residents of this small beach community seem to be conspiring against my plans. It's almost as if they want me to fall in love and stay married to Blake.
But that's never going to happen. Or is it?
Tawdra Kandle
Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books run from YA paranormal romance through NA paranormal and contemporary romance to adult contemporary and paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.
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The Problem - Tawdra Kandle
Prologue
The light streaming in through a gap in the curtain woke me, and the very first thing I saw was that blasted bracelet, still resting lightly on my left wrist.
God.
I groaned out the word, burying my face in the pillow briefly. It took me a minute to remember where I was.
Vegas.
I turned my head to glare at the bracelet, and it was then that I saw another piece of jewelry. But this one didn’t look at all familiar. As a matter of fact, it was downright foreign, and when my addled, foggy brain took hold of what it was, terror gripped my heart.
It was gold, it was round, and it was on the fourth finger of my left hand.
Before I could slide into a full-out panic, I heard a soft snore and felt the sheet over me tighten as the person in bed with me turned over.
The person in bed with me? Who the hell was in bed with me?
I forced myself to be brave and ventured a peek. When I saw the dark auburn hair, messy and curling, and the layer of scruff on the strong jaw, everything began to come back to me—and I wished it hadn’t.
My heart was thumping so hard, I was sure it was going to wake up my—no. I so wasn’t going there. What I had to do now was get the hell out of Dodge and fast. There wasn’t a second to lose.
I slithered out from beneath the covers and planted my bare feet on the plush carpet. The rest of me was just as bare as my feet, as it turned out, and I cringed a little as I sprinted for the door that led out of the bedroom and into the front room of the small suite. I paused only to grab my small suitcase and to scoop up random pieces of my clothing that littered the floor of the bedroom.
Once I’d made it to the other side of the door, I quietly shut it behind me, praying that the soft click didn’t wake sleeping beauty. The last thing I wanted to do right now was to have a long conversation about the mess we’d gotten into last night. I wasn’t ready to think about it. Not yet.
Frantically, I pulled on underwear, a bra, the jeans I’d worn yesterday and a T-shirt I found in my bag. With trembling fingers, I raked my wavy brown hair off my face and pulled it up into a sloppy ponytail.
Once I had everything back in my small and sophisticated Coach duffel, I draped the long handle of my crossbody purse over my head and left the suite, stepping out into the hallway with a measure of . . . relief? Regret? Maybe a bit of both.
The elevator came quickly to my floor, and it was blessedly empty. I wasn’t in the mood to ride down eighteen stories with anyone who might expect me to be social. Once in the lobby, I made a beeline for the front desk.
Good morning. How may I help you?
A perky blonde smiled at me, her long manicured fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to jump into action on my behalf.
Hi. Um . . .
I took a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to phrase my request. I’m in room 1863. I was staying there with my—uh, friend. But I was just called away unexpectedly. I have an emergency situation.
I nodded, as if it to convince this chick I was telling the truth. Why it mattered that she believed me, I couldn’t have explained.
Oh, I’m sorry.
Front desk Barbie tilted her head in sympathy.
Yeah, well . . . my friend was still asleep, so I’ll get in touch later and explain why I had to leave.
Sure, I would. But I’m going to go ahead and pay the bill for the hotel. Oh, and keep my card on file in case my friend wants to grab breakfast or something, all right?
Certainly.
She’d tapped in my room number when I’d mentioned it. Now her gaze flickered to me and then back to the screen. All right, then, Ms. Lockhart. I’ve run your card for the balance of the stay, and I’ve left the account open, in case there are any late room charges. We’ll email you your receipt.
Thank you.
At least something was going smoothly. I need to get a taxi to the airport. Can you remind me where the stand is?
She pointed across the expansive lobby. Through those glass double doors. There’s a guy there who’ll give you a hand. Have a safe and pleasant trip home, Ms. Lockhart. And that you for staying with us.
Thanks.
I all but sprinted for the doors, my bag bumping against my legs. Skidding to a halt by the taxi stand, I pointed to the street.
I need a cab, please. I’m going to the airport, and I need to get there fast.
No problem, miss.
The man tapped something on his tablet. What time is your flight?
Shit. I don’t know. I haven’t booked it yet. It’s an emergency situation.
I repeated the same phrase that I’d given the front desk clerk.
If you’d like, we can help you find a flight. Patty in the concierge department would be happy to give you a hand, if you’ll step back inside—
NO!
I spoke much more loudly than I’d intended, and the man jumped in surprised. I mean, no, thank you—I can do it myself. Just call me a taxi, please, and I’ll work out something before it gets here.
I tugged out my phone and pulled up my favorite trusty travel app. Scrolling through the options, I began to book a trip back home to California, but then I hesitated. If I went back home, he’d find me easily, and then I’d have to deal with exactly what I was running from now. I needed more than a few hours to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I had to fly somewhere he wouldn’t think to follow.
Several options popped into my head, but none was good enough . . . until I remembered an email I’d received just last week from my cousin Abby. In it, she’d raved