Page 36 of No Rings Attached
Istepped into Matt’s Diner the next morning and smiled when his grumpy voice shouted at me from behind the counter to “Sit anywhere!”
Drew and I had found ourselves working until late last night. There had been construction issues with the second location in Connecticut that was set to open around Valentine’s Day that we had to deal with right away. We ordered pizza and ate as we troubleshooted. By 8:00 pm, Drew decided to call it a night and drove me back to the B&B.
We’d stayed so late, Drew insisted I didn’t start before 9:00 am, but as much as I appreciated his thoughtful gesture, I couldn’t sleep in. I was up at 6:00 am as usual, and after lying in bed for a few extra minutes I decided to get up, get ready, and soak in all the small town goodness and ambiance that I could before I headed into the office.
And thus found myself here.
Nora was at my table with her pot of Joe as soon as I sat down. “Coffee hun?”
I jumped at her appearance. I’d been lost in my own head again. “I’m sorry. What?” Spending the day with Drew—and kissing him—still had my brain all mixed up. We needed to be planning out how we were going to make our fake relationship look real. I shouldn’t be obsessing over the way Drew’s lips felt against mine every time I was alone. But it did cross my mind.
Every other freaking second.
Nora’s chuckle echoed in the open space. At 7:00 am, there were only a few other patrons besides myself. “Did you want coffee?”
“That would be great. Do you have any that come with an IV drip?” I grinned.
“We’d make a killing if we did.”
I ordered the breakfast special with my coffee and then reached into my bag to pull out my laptop. A big smile stretched across my face.
This was it.
This was the inspiration I needed.
This was going to be the most amazing writing sprint I’d ever done.
Being here in this town had jumpstarted a million different ideas for scenes in the small-town romcom I was writing. Last night at the B&B, I’d finished noting my impressions of Ruby River, the people I’d met, and ways I could incorporate the little nuances of it all into my book.
Fifth grade may have been a long time ago, but I’d never lost the love of crafting stories or the thrill of seeing the characters I dreamed of in my head appear on paper. And if it wasn’t for briefly reconnecting with an old friend—who had read my grade school and high school stories, encouraging me to give it a try—I don’t know if I’d have taken this leap to writing a book or not.
I’d been secretly or not so secretly writing since my family found out. The story itself had been in the works for years, but they made me doubt myself and wonder if I could really do this. And they were the first to remind me that you didn’t just hit it big because you wrote a book.
But I wanted totry. I needed to know that I’d done everything I could to craft the story I’d kept in the recesses of my heart. To share it with the world and let the readers decide. It was scary to know that my soul was woven into each word, each page, and how one negative review could tear it all apart.
I had to believe I was tough enough to handle it. That my book would resonate with those that needed to escape or needed to know they were loved. Because I was going with my gut. I was writing heroines that looked like me. People who weren’t the perfect size six and still found the love we all wished for. I was going to show my readers that every single roll, dip, curve, dimple, and stretch mark was beautiful. And that if you put yourself out there, lovewouldfind you.
And that belief that love will find people was ingrained in me. I had this deep-seated desire to show others who might have felt like I did over the years—that my weight defined whether I was worthy to find love—was what overrode the voices in my head, telling me I couldn’t do it.
Iwoulddo this.
No matter how long it took.
With my heart bursting with all the emotions over my ‘why,’ I opened my laptop. Visiting this small town was going to help me add the realistic day-to-day moments readers would love, and I was totally here for it.
Nora dropped off my food while I reread the previous few paragraphs I’d typed the night before to get my head in the game. The characters took center stage like they always did, and began telling me their story. Who they were, what they did, and how they’d react to each other and the problems I created for them.
I peeked over the top of my computer screen to make sure no one else was close by to see what I was typing. Once verified, I popped in my earbuds and the 528 Hertz music was already set up to help me focus. Finally, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath to center myself and to set my intention for this session. I wanted my creative side to have free rein and to let the story flow as it needed to.
My two main characters were finally giving in to their desire for each other. Their kiss took on a whole new level of intimacy and raw need as I relived my kiss with Drew and put it into the scene. This time though, I let my female lead do all the things I’d wanted to do to Drew. She ran her hands up and over his abs and pulled his body flush against hers so she could feel his erection pressing into the softness of her belly.
I squirmed happily in my seat as the words flowed from my fingertips, erotic and sweet all at the same time. A soft smile played on my lips as I imagined me and Drew as the main characters and what it would be like for us to be together in this way. The hero slid the heroine’s pants down as she sat on the bed, his mouth so tantalizingly close to her wet core. He kissed the crease where her thigh and hip met, and his beard scraped against her tender skin. She trembled as he took his time, his breath ghosting along her seam.
Two fingers tapped the table in front of me. Twice.
My heart seized in my chest.
My fingers froze.
