Page 27 of Riding the Waves

“It’s a gorgeous place,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Can we get down to business?” Scarlett asked, foisting her open laptop into Tara’s arms. “What do you think?”

Tara pursed her lips at the bare-chested guy on the cover. “I think I’d like to do naughty things with that man. It’s a fantastic cover. What’s the problem?”

“It’s a sweet romance.”

“Oh.” Tara tilted her head. “If I bought this and there weren’t at least three open-door sex scenes I’d be demanding a refund.”

“Exactly.” Scarlett looked fairly smug. “There are two fade-to-black sex scenes.”

“Oh, no,” Tara said. “That won’t do. Not for this guy. Keep him for something spicier. What else have you got?”

Scarlett tapped the keyboard and the quaint illustrated cover appeared.

“That’s also good. For a completely different market.”

“That’s what we’ll go with,” Scarlett said, taking the laptop back. “Thank you.”

“What are you really here for?” Tara asked. “You clearly didn’t need my input on the cover.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something else.” Scarlett shifted from foot to foot. “But then Lizzie said I should bring Amy.”

“Ah.” Tara flashed Amy a smile. “It’s a private conversation?” she asked Scarlett.

“Yes.”

“I can browse,” Amy suggested, pointing across the room as she backed away.

While Tara and Scarlett retreated for a hushed conversation at the back of the room, Amy happily wandered the rows of books, pulling some out to look at the covers with a more critical eye.

“We can go now!” Scarlett called after five minutes.

Amy stepped out from the shelves and aimed her gaze at Tara. “It really is a gorgeous shop. How long have you had it?”

“Quite a while now,” she said, squinting as though trying to think how long it had been. “My husband inherited it from his uncle. It was rundown, so we renovated it together …” She looked over her shoulder when the door behind the counter opened. “Speak of the devil.”

The guy who wandered out was classically good-looking, with a strong jaw and smiling eyes. He had a little girl perched on his arm.

He said a collective hello before passing the child to Tara. “Are you all right to have her while I go for a jog?”

“Of course,” Tara replied, then smothered the little cutie with kisses, making her giggle.

Apparently, Amy had jumped to a lot of false assumptions about Tara. The husband and child changed her opinion of her in an instant, and she was even more annoyed with herself for worrying about the nature of Tara’s relationship with Damian.

“She looks like you,” Amy remarked as the bell tinkled behind Tara’s husband.

“Lots of people say that. It’s the hair, I suppose.” Tara ran a hand over the girl’s dark curls. “She’s not biologically mine. We’re just looking after her for a little while until her mum gets back on her feet.”

“Oh,” Amy said, confused.

“We’re her foster parents,” Tara explained. “She’s been with us for two months now.”

“Wow. Have you been fostering for long?”

“We were approved to be foster parents a year ago. Polly is our third child. The other two were short-term emergency placements, so only a few days each.”

---