Vintage Dreams

Special Smashwords Edition

Vintage Dreams

Morello Cove, Book 1

A Novel

by Jannie Lund

Published by

Satin Romance

An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC

White Bear Lake, MN 55110

www.satinromance.com

Vintage Dreams, Copyright 2016, Jannie Lund

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should go to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-68046-231-9

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published in the United States of America.

Cover Design: Shelley Schmidt

To Stacie, for making it less scary

Table of Contents

Vintage Dreams

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Preview of book 2, Dreams of Home

About the Author

Previews

VINTAGE DREAMS

by Jannie Lund

Scott Sullivan is sent on an unpleasant trip down memory lane to secure a location for a client. He’s banking on using his talent and his charm to get the job done. Danielle Harris has worked hard to make her dream come true. She’s not about to let someone charm her out of it. Charm and temper, stubbornness and attraction. Scott and Danielle soon find themselves in both professional and personal trouble as sparks fly.

Chapter One

Danielle fussed with the delicate, cream colored lace and took a step back to let her critical eyes take in the dress she’d been up half the night finishing. Not that there’d been any rush to get it done, but whenever one of the dresses she created started to take form, she felt a burning need to see it complete and on display at the boutique. Adding the turquoise and mother of pearl necklace completed the vision, and she took another step back. A smile bloomed on her face and satisfaction spread in her body. The dress looked exactly like she’d envisioned when she’d first put pen to paper, and that exact moment was her favorite in the whole process.

Fleur. Come look at how awesome we are.

Danielle’s best friend, business partner, and sister in all but blood came out from the back a moment later. She looked in a bit of a daze, which meant Danielle had interrupted her work. She almost felt bad, but then she looked back at the perfect vision of romance and dreams her dress and Fleur’s jewelry made. Fleur would forgive her the interruption.

What? Fleur was usually the picture of gentleness and patience, but she became mama bear when someone got between her and her work.

Look, Danielle said.

Fleur looked, and Danielle watched the sun rise after a stormy night on her friend’s face. The annoyance gave way to awe and pleasure. Wow. We did good, Dani.

We did better than good, honey. We did amazing. Danielle slung her arm around Fleur’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

Danielle and Fleur had been fourteen the first time they’d created something together. Danielle had altered a thrift store dress with her grandmother’s old sewing machine and a few yards of lace, and Fleur had made a necklace for it out of lace scraps and pearl beads. They’d been prouder than peacocks, and from that moment their future had been decided. They had worked hard to learn and to save money, and the result was Annata, the boutique they’d opened on the boardwalk of their hometown of Morello Cove in Monterey Bay. Initially, they’d discussed if it was the right location to sell pricey vintage dresses and handmade jewelry that matched, but they had decided against moving the operation to the city. A wise decision, it had turned out. Women traveled far for the right outfit, and after two years Annata was a definitive success.

It looks like a dream, doesn’t it? A romantic dream full of moonlight and dancing without music. Fleur sighed happily.

Danielle squeezed her shoulder. I’d have said that it’s a piece of art, but your description sounds better. What are you working on this morning?

The black garnet pieces for the burgundy satin dress. And the sunrise this morning inspired me so much that I sketched two different wedding sets. Not sure why I see them as wedding sets, but I do. I’ll show you later.

I can’t wait. Danielle looked at her watch. All right, go hide in your cave. We open in ten minutes, and Susan and Trish will be here any minute.

All right. Call me of you need me.

Danielle nodded, knowing she wouldn’t. There would have to be a code red crisis of epic proportions before she called Fleur out to assist with the customers. Fleur hated it, preferring to hide in her little workshop in the back. She wasn’t even comfortable coming out to say hello to customers who wanted to meet the woman behind the stunning jewelry they bought. Fleur tolerated it, but only barely. Danielle spent as much time with the customers as she did making her dresses. She’d trained Susan and Trish, their two employees, and they were equally at ease with the customers as they were carrying out Danielle’s strict orders stitching hems or beading skirts. They were absolute gems.

When the two arrived a few moments later, Danielle spent a few minutes going over the plans for the day with them. Weekday mornings were usually pretty slow, so she sent both Susan and Trish out back. Trish was helping her with a wedding dress that had a train with an unbearable amount of glass beads, each one stitched on by hand. Danielle couldn’t wait to see it finished. Fleur had created a diadem that resembled a crown of light when its gems sparkled, and Danielle almost envied the yet unknown bride who would wear it.

Susan was asked to deal with the fabrics that had come in earlier that morning, so Danielle had the front of the boutique to herself. This meant that she fussed, corrected a lace collar here, an earring there, and made sure that every dress and every piece of jewelry shone in its own right.

The bell above the door jingling put a smile to her face. As much as she loved creating, finding the right body for her own and Fleur’s creations was exciting, too. However, when she looked up, the body in the door opening was not ever going to fit into one of her dresses, Tall, dark, and handsome came to mind, although that did not do the man justice. Tall, yes. Dark, yes. Handsome, no. More than handsome. Sexy. Devastatingly so. The short, black hair and the icy blue eyes made a stunning combination. The black slacks and white shirt was not enough to hide the muscles beneath, and when he smiled at her, a dimple emerged on the left side of his mouth. She fought the urge to sigh dreamily like Fleur so often did in the presence of real beauty.

Danielle, puzzled at the quivering sensation the stranger invoked in her, pulled herself together and smiled a welcome. If this guy was considerate enough to buy his wife or girlfriend a handmade dress and handmade jewelry, he was pretty much perfect in her opinion. And he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

* * * *

It was with less reluctance than expected that Scott Sullivan unfolded himself from his car, gave his legs a much-needed stretch, and breathed in the fresh, clean sea air. It had been years since he’d last made the drive up to Morello Cove, and there had been as many unpleasant memories associated with driving into town as he’d been expecting. However, he’d been surprised to find a few pleasant ones in the mix, as well.

Things looked as much the same as they did different. The stunning view from the boardwalk was the same, and Scott let his eyes rest on the loveliness of it for a minute. Then he looked around, seeing that Dot Maguire still sold groceries in the north end of the boardwalk. Her storefront hadn’t changed in at least thirty years, and it looked sorely out of place now. It hadn’t when Scott was a boy and the boardwalk had been a place of video stores, the hardware store, a beauty parlor, and the Greek family he couldn’t recall the name of who’d had that little restaurant. Now all those were gone, replaced with tourist shops, boutiques, and trendy little cafes and restaurants. He knew all this from his research, and he’d thought there’d be little charm left, but he was wrong. The town oozed charm. So much that he nearly forgot his unpleasant memories for a second.

His eyes zoomed in on a charming boutique opposite the path down to the long, thin pier that few people passing through town could resist walking along. It was pretty in the sunshine and spectacular in a storm where it made you feel you were part of the waves, the wind, and nature in general. The boutique sold handmade vintage dresses and jewelry, was owned by two locals, and had the best location in Morello Cove. Scott was there to secure it for his client, a fast-growing chain of coffee shops that sprouted up everywhere.

Seeing no reason to put things off and having to stay longer than necessary, he locked the car and strolled toward the boutique. There had been an antique store there before. An old woman whose name he couldn’t remember had owned it, and Scott had never seen a single customer in there. Back then it had been dark and crowded with too much merchandise. Now he looked through the large windows and saw a light, airy, and...he pondered the right word as he took in the pretty, old-fashioned dresses. Romantic. That’s what it was. Full of flowers, lace, and pretty things. Real pretty. There was no doubt the owners knew what they were doing, which might not work to his advantage. He’d have preferred owners in financial troubles who’d be relieved to take what he was offering.

Noting that the boutique was open, he stepped inside the door, but stopped when he noticed a woman rising. She’d been bent over a display, bent just the right way for him to get a generous glimpse of well-shaped legs and curves a man could spend a long time appreciating. A very long time. Then he saw her face, a smile lighting it. His own smile faltered a moment. This was no mere woman. He was looking at a goddess. A curvy, sultry goddess with shiny, black curls, a mouth made for kissing, and eyes that he’d swear had gold flecks in them.

Good morning. How can I help you?

Scott swallowed. He’d bet his car that none of the ways he imagined her helping him was what she had in mind. He had to remind himself to be professional. He had a job to do.

Good morning. I’m looking for the owners of this place. Danielle Harris or Fleur Walker. Are either of them here?

I’m Danielle Harris.

Of course she was, he thought, realizing he’d expected to be charming middle-aged ladies. Not young goddesses. Scott Sullivan, he introduced himself, offering his hand. I’m a lawyer and representing The Java Bean Shack. I’m hoping you and Miss Walker might give me a moment of your time whenever you’re both available.

Gold-flecked eyes narrowed slightly although the professional smile stayed in place. Apparently this particular goddess belonged to the race who did not like lawyers much.

What is this about?

The Java Bean Shack ... you might have heard of them? Real popular coffee shop chain wh—

This isn’t the boonies. I know The Java Bean Shack, she interrupted. What do they want with us?

Italian, Scott decided, suppressing a smile. The coloring and the temper, it all fit. They are very interested in acquiring this location, Miss Harris. They’ve sent me to negotiate, and I can assure you that you will be well compensated.

Not interested. Danielle’s smile disappeared completely. One of the seafood restaurants further down closed a while back. The place is for sale, so your coffee chain can buy that. If that’s all?

I wish you would give me a chance to present the offer to you and your partner. Scott found the fire in her eyes fascinating even if it did make his job a lot harder.

I speak for us both when I say we’re not interested no matter how much money you throw at us.

Two women came into the boutique, and Danielle’s professional smile returned. Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Sullivan. Have a nice day. Dismissing him, she turned her attention to her customers.

I’ll see you later, Miss Harris. Scott grinned when she offered him a quick glare.

He decided not to press the issue in front of her customers, however, and walked outside. He needed to regroup and come up with a strategy for the battle ahead. Then he sighed. As much as he’d enjoy dealing with the wonder of a woman he’d just met, it also meant that he had to resign himself to stay in town for a while. He’d packed a bag for just that purpose, but he’d spent the entire drive hoping he wouldn’t need it.

Scott checked in with his clients, leaving out the particulars of his initial meeting with one of the owners, and just told them he’d need a few days to get a chance to present the offer. It was the truth. Danielle Harris had never given him the chance to have his say, and he intended to have it one way or the other.

He found a nice, little hotel with a vacant room, an ocean view, and a mini bar. It was all he needed. He changed out of his slacks and dress shirt, opting for a more casual look of jeans and a t-shirt so he’d fit better in with the tourists.

Part of his plan was to intensify his research. He’d clearly underestimated his opponent, and it would be rectified with some old-fashioned surveillance. The diner, located awkwardly behind the boardwalk, he remembered coming to as a child worked perfectly for this mission because it offered a partial view of Annata.

The diner was as clearly for the locals as the trendier cafés and restaurants were for the tourists. At least that’s what it looked like to Scott when he stepped inside and every head turned to look at him. There wasn’t a smile in sight. It amused him a little, but mostly he was bitter. Morello Cove had never been good to him.

Choosing strategically, he went for the booth that had the best view. He ordered a cup of coffee and the kind of greasy burger he wouldn’t even know where to find in Los Angeles, and then he started his mission. It was time to find out just how popular the boutique was.

It was popular, he realized a burger, a piece of cherry pie, and three cups of coffee later. Frustratingly popular, in fact. Not only did it have a constant stream of customers, but most of them came out with a cream-colored shopping bag with the name Annata swung in lovely cursives on the side. At one point, he was even pretty sure he’d recognized one of Hollywood’s most famous actresses coming out wearing a large pair of sunglasses and hefting at least three bags. To sum it up, he was screwed. At least if he didn’t come up with a brilliant plan of how to charm, beg and/or convince the stunning Danielle and her as of yet unknown partner that they’d be better off somewhere else, putting all the money The Java Bean Shack was offering them to good use. Scott liked a challenge, but this had the potential of becoming a headache instead. He wished he’d been more insistent to his boss that he wasn’t a realtor, though that argument had only been an attempt to avoid a trip to Morello Cove.

* * * *

Danielle kept busy all day. The customers had been a mediocre distraction from her simmering temper, and she couldn’t wait to be able to vent to Fleur. Of all the arrogant men she’d ever met... She huffed out a string of Italian curses she’d learned by listening to her mother. To think that this Scott Sullivan thought he could just waltz in and expect her and Fleur to give up everything for which they’d worked so hard.

Did someone rip a dress?

Danielle spun around, noting with surprise that it was after closing time, which explained Fleur’s presence and why she was locking the door. No, no ripping. Just... Sighing, she rubbed her forehead. I need to get out of here. Come over for dinner and I’ll tell you all about it. It concerns you every bit as much as it concerns me.

She knew she’d made Fleur curious, but she also knew her friend had enough patience not to ask. Fleur was a saint that way. She knew Danielle’s moods and temper the way only a true friend could, which was a relief right then.

It wasn’t until after some fresh air and a glass of chilled white wine that Danielle felt calm enough to explain Scott Sullivan’s morning visit. She’d installed Fleur at the breakfast bar with a glass of wine and started preparing a quick pasta dish.

One of those city slick lawyer types came in this morning just after we’d opened. He was representing a chain of coffee shops and wanted to buy Annata. Buy it! Danielle slammed