Page 37 of Love At The Shore
A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach as she peered at the name on the tiny screen: Stan.
Oh, boy.
Could his timing be any worse? Yes. Yes, it could, because just as she was about to answer the call, Lucas appeared mere feet away on the opposite side of the fence.
She nearly dropped the phone. “Oh, wow. You’re always right there, aren’t you?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose you could’ve built a higher fence.”
Touché. “Believe me, I thought about it.”
She couldn’t have this conversation with Lucas so nearby. He was so…distracting. Surely he’d leave once she answered the phone.
“Hello?” She swallowed. Stan said something, and Jenna was only vaguely aware of what it was. Lucas still stood there on the other side of the fence. Why wasn’t he going anywhere?
She darted toward the staircase. “Hi, how are you? Yeah, I’m just running upstairs.”
As she fled, Stan asked if she was just about finished with her manuscript.
Jenna nodded. “Am I almost done with the draft? Absolutely. It’s practically writing itself.”
Except for one minor detail—the ending.
Luckily, he didn’t press for more information. Instead, he launched into a detailed explanation of the publicity plan for her upcoming book. The marketing department was so convinced it would be a huge hit that her initial print run would be nearly double the size of the first printing of her debut book. She should’ve been thrilled. Every author dreamed of this kind of support, but as happy as the news made her, it also made her deadline feel more pressing than ever.
Only three more weeks!
Guilt tugged at Jenna’s conscience as Stan began to heap praise on her, but then she stopped listening to him because she caught sight of Lucas down below, leaning against the fence and reading a stack of papers that looked an awful lot like her manuscript. She froze.
No.
He wouldn’t.
But, oh yes. He would.
Her gaze darted to the arm of her Adirondack chair, and sure enough, her pages were no longer where she’d left them. She aimed her fiercest glare at Lucas, which he didn’t notice at all. Instead, to her complete and utter horror, he picked up her red pen and began making notes in the margins of her manuscript.
What. In. The. World.
“Hey. Hey, hey!” Jenna leaned over the balcony, waving frantically at him. He ignored her, but of course Stan thought she was talking to him. “What? No, sorry. I was just sayinghey, I should probably finish that ending.”
She managed to get off the phone as quickly as she could. “Excellent, bye.”
Excellent? What a joke. Nothing was excellent—not her non-existent ending and certainly not the fact that Lucas was downstairs critiquing her manuscript. It wasn’t ready for anyone to see yet. She hadn’t even let her kids read it, much less a perfect stranger.
Although Lucas wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, was he? He was almost beginning to feel like a friend…
Or at least hehadbeen until he’d stolen her pages.
“Would you stop reading that?” She flew down the stairs and lunged across the white picket fence, but he gathered the manuscript close to his chest and leapt out of reach.
“I have to admit, I really love this Jasmine character. But this yachtsman, he’s a little stiff for my taste.” He made another red mark in the margin.
Unbelievable. “Are you seriously giving me notes right now?”
“What? A surfer can’t have a literary opinion?” He frowned as if he was the injured party.
“I didn’t say that,” she countered.
