Page 1 of Color of Love

Chapter 1

Any second now I’m in danger of being able to talk about myself…Justine Valentina Rodríguez-Hamilton thought, fighting an eye roll. The man sitting opposite her was so engrossed in talking about himself that he hadn’t even noticed her boredom. She ran her eyes over his rust-colored hair, then took in his ruddy complexion and pale blue eyes. He was very attractive, smartly dressed and had nice manners, but his conversation skills were definitely lacking. She tried to remain attentive but if she had to listen to him talk about tractors one more time, she was gonna lose it.

She was sick of dating. There were slim pickings in her small town so any new bachelors she heard about through the gossip grapevine she pounced on immediately, investigating them for any potential to become Mr. Justine Valentina Rodríguez-Hamilton. She tried not to come across like she woke up every morning and spritzed herself head to toe with Desperation by Calvin Klein, but she felt like Charlotte in that episode of Sex and the City where she was ranting that she was exhausted from dating.

Her current date Tommy was from the next town. He had recently bought a farm and he was looking for a farmhand wife to help him run it. Although Justine was looking to settle down, a farm was not where she wanted or needed to be. No, thank you. Not that there was anything wrong with farming, it just wasn’t her thing. For starters, she wouldn’t be able to do her actual job, which she loved.

She was a psychologist, she loved her work, relished delving into the complexities of people’s thoughts and feelings, learning the way their brains worked. She loved that her job combined academics and patient care, and that every day was different. Her drive to help people was what kept her motivated to continually grow and develop her skills. In her spare time, she liked to flex her creative muscles by writing music and performing occasionally here at the Rusty Bucket Inn. Her life was well-rounded, it was as full as it could be, but there was something missing. Something that couldn’t be filled by working on a farm, darn it.

She didn’t exactly have lofty ambitions for life. It’s not like she wanted to be a millionaire married to Chris Evans…drool…or even become a world-famous musician. She just wanted a normal life, a strong career and marriage to a wonderful man followed by the typical two point four children. It wasn’t very forward-thinking of her, but she was traditional at heart, raised in a traditional household. She could almost feel Susan B. Anthony turning in her grave.

Justine had done the other stuff. She had a successful career, owned her own home and had been fully independent since she was eighteen years old. She had ticked off all the items on her ‘Checklist of Life’ except the man and the kids. So, thanks for everything Susan, truly, but I’ll take it from here. She sighed deeply, she just needed to keep going and to believe that these things were coming, but damn she was tired.

“Do you have much experience with udders?” Tommy asked her, interrupting her deep thoughts.

She offered him a smile, “I’m afraid not, I’d be udder-ly useless.”

“Not a problem, you can always learn,” he replied, her lame joke going straight over his head, banging the final nail in the potential romance coffin. Dios mio. She sighed inwardly and reached for her glass of rosé, downing it. Tommy was good-looking but far too serious for her. She definitely had a type: the men she went for tended to be preppy businessman types, smart, mature, funny, emotionally available family men. A bit like her father actually. Ooh don’t open that door.

Her parents had met when they were in their senior year of high school. Justine’s grandparents had just immigrated from Mexico. Her mother, Valentina, didn’t speak very much English at the time. One afternoon after school, some of the local boys were trying to take advantage of her naivety when Justine’s father, James, swooped in and saved the day. He was besotted with the Mexican beauty, and they had been together ever since, true high school sweethearts.

It was a fairy-tale, and Justine wanted the fairy-tale too and wouldn’t settle for anything less. She wanted that perfect, easy, all-consuming love that you only read about. The kind of love her parents shared, that her brothers had with their wives, and that her friends Christy and Dean had recently found. When she was around them, she could see it, feel it, in everything they did, it lifted them up. She sometimes found it hard to be around them, on days when she struggled to keep up the happy-go-lucky ‘I’m not gonna die alone!’ façade. So, when would it be her turn?

Justine’s lungs constricted in mild panic; her parents had been nearly twenty years younger than she was when they met. When would she catch a break? She’d begun to panic that she would be alone forever. She was thirty-four and time was running out if she wanted to find her true love and start a family.

“Oh, look, I need another drink,” Justine said, leaping to her feet, then her manners kicked in. “Would you like another beer?” she asked. Her date nodded, and she tottered over to the bar, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. She placed her empty glass on top of the bar, sighing again.

“Hey babe! What are you doing here tonight?” Taylor, one of her best friends and part owner of the Rusty Bucket Inn, cooed at her, coming out of her office. Justine hiked her thumb over her shoulder towards her date.

“Ooh he’s cute, what do you think?” Taylor asked, but Justine shook her head sadly. “Aw I’m sorry hon, another rosé?”

“Yes please, a large one, and a beer too.”

Taylor turned away to get the drinks. “You’re looking mighty fine tonight, FYI. You’re even giving me feels!” she called over her shoulder. Taylor always complimented everyone; she was such a sweetheart under all her sass. Justine ran her hands over her orange satin dress.

“Thanks, Tay. You know exactly what to say to cheer me up,” she laughed.

She felt her mood lifting, not only was she feeling down about the whole single thing, but she was stressing about work. Well, about a new client in particular. Blake Miller, the town’s new deputy sheriff. She had successfully managed to avoid him so far, not wanting to meet him before their first session tomorrow. She didn’t like having personal relationships with her clients, she felt that they came to their sessions with preconceived notions of her and behaved differently, and how else could she help them if they weren’t authentic with her?

She would start from scratch with Blake so he would come to his session open-minded, fresh and raw. She wanted to delve into his psyche, immerse herself in his thoughts and feelings until she understood what made him tick. He was intriguing, something about him drew her. Maybe it was because he had a list of problems as long as her arm.

He was a widower, ex-military, suffering from PTSD, insomnia, anxiety, depression and he was hard-faced and emotionally stunted…come to mama! He presented her with a true professional challenge. She’d never had a client like him before and she was eager to get inside his head, even if she was a little scared she might be out of her depth.

Her mind scoffed at the thought of him, how this gorgeous man had been sent to her town, as though the universe were mocking her. He was definitely the most attractive man in Citrus Pines, and the most serious. Although she preferred men who didn’t act like the world would end if they smiled, watching Blake Miller frown around town these last few weeks had made her seriously reconsider her type. Goodbye comedians, hello Mr. Broody.

But it didn’t matter, she couldn’t have him. As his new psychologist she was bound by her ethics, to treat him and not develop any personal attachments to him. Which was fine because Blake wasn’t her type, he was too messy, and Justine didn’t do messy. She was a perfectionist. When she met her one true love, he wouldn’t have any emotional baggage, he wouldn’t have been married before, he wouldn’t be emotionally stunted and unable to connect to others. She would be his only love; they would be soulmates and live happily ever after.

Justine was pulled out of her thoughts by a loud, high-pitched giggle. She turned to see her friend, Beau, entering the bar with a cheeky-looking blond woman on his arm. He gestured to a booth in the corner, the blond giggled again and went to take a seat. Beau headed towards the bar, smiling when he saw Justine.

“Evening Justine, don’t you look beautiful. Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked, friendly charm coating his words. She nodded in the direction of her date and Beau peered over her shoulder.

“Not bad!” he exclaimed as Taylor put Justine’s glass of rosé on the bar.

“Then why don’t you date him?” Taylor drawled sarcastically. Justine rolled her eyes, Lord, here we go. She hated getting caught in the middle of their spats. Christy wasn’t the only one of their original friendship group who had recently moved back to town. Beau had returned to Citrus Pines after living in L.A. for the last fourteen years. They had all been friends as kids, he and Taylor at one point had been best friends. Then they had a falling out and shortly after, he had moved away. She was so glad he and Christy were home, their group was back together, and everything felt right again. Well, despite Beau and Taylor’s obvious hatred for each other, but you can’t have everything.

“Hello Taylor, I see your sunny disposition is brightening up the bar this evening as usual,” he drawled. Taylor shot him a withering look and moved away to fetch Tommy’s beer.

“You’re not usually one for dating on a school night,” Beau teased Justine.

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