Honeymoon Hotel

By Phoebe Conn

After having her fill or working as a designer, Joelle Parker is inspired to use her artistic skills and create a romantic honeymoon hotel from her family's majestic Victorian home, but faced with losing the house, she only six months to make it a success.

Rick Keene is a handsome young rancher delighted to find Joelle's fancy hotel so close to home, as he struggles to take on the burdens of planning his wedding alone.
Although Joelle's aunt cautions her not to fall in love with every good looking man who comes through the front door, Joelle believes keeping Rick from making a disastrous marriage should be one of the primary services of the Honeymoon Hotel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phoebe Conn
• Release date: Aug 19, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466095304

Phoebe Conn

New York Times bestselling author and former kindergarten teacher, Phoebe Conn firmly believes all matter of story conflict and mayhem can lead to a Happily Ever After. Inspired long ago by Ricardo Montalban's commercial for romance books, Phoebe remains enthusiastic about writing and giving her beloved characters happy endings.

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Honeymoon Hotel

By Phoebe Conn

Copyright © 2011 by Phoebe Conn

Smashwords Edition

Cover art image by Shutterstock.com

E-book and cover formatted by Jessica Lewis

http://www.Author'sLifeSaver.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Chapter I

Excuse me, ma’am, is this the Honeymoon Hotel?

Balanced on a ladder, Joelle struggled to hold onto the freshly painted sign and her temper. In another few minutes, she would have had the sign hanging from the veranda and anyone driving by her family’s majestic Victorian home would have seen it. She forced a smile as she turned, and her whole world slid into a dizzying whirl.

The young man held his cowboy hat, as though he’d been taught to show the proper respect for women. The sun had streaked highlights in his light brown hair, and his eyes were a vivid blue. He wasn’t pretty as male models were, but they needed makeup and flattering lighting to look good. In the clear morning sunshine, he was handsome in a natural, thoroughly masculine way. It took her a moment to recall his question.

Why yes it is, she responded with a breathless sweetness.

Do you need some help? he asked and came up on the veranda.

He was dressed in a plaid western shirt, worn jeans and scuffed boots. There were large ranches circling the town of Mirasol, and clearly he belonged on one. He was tall and lanky, definitely Joelle’s type, and her shaky smile warmed to show charming dimples.

Would you please? She laid the sign on the top of the ladder and climbed down. She was also dressed in jeans and a ruffled shirt to echo the new hotel’s romantic theme.

He plunked on his hat and climbed the ladder with a confident step. The weight of the sign posed no problem for him. He had it fastened to the hooks in seconds and climbed down.

Where would you like the ladder? he asked, and his voice held a pleasing depth.

We have a tool shed in the back, but you really needn’t bother.

I don’t mind, ma’am. I came by to see the place, and I might as well see it all.

Thank you so much. She offered her hand. I’m Joelle Parker, one of the owners.

He wiped his hand on his jeans before shaking hers. Rick Keene. He closed the wooden ladder with an easy slap and gestured for her to precede him down the steps.

She pushed a stray curl into her ponytail. Her hair was a shocking red, her fair skin dusted with freckles and her eyes a warm green. While she didn’t consider herself dressed in the morning without mascara and lip gloss, she hoped he was partial to women with her fresh wholesome look.

As they circled the house, she wondered if he had come to scout the location for a friend or relative rather than needing a site for his own honeymoon. Weddings were a great place to meet single men, but a prospective groom sadly didn’t qualify.

The flowers sure are pretty, he said.

Thank you. The gardens are my aunt’s pride and joy.

The house was surrounded by a lush growth of purple salvia, blue catnip, pink dianthus, and white and yellow yarrow to provide abundant color from spring through summer. Along the north side, the hydrangeas exploded with heavy lavender blooms, and on the south, the bougainvillea was awash with brilliant magenta flowers.

The shed was a miniature version of the big yellow house and had once been a children’s playhouse. Rick carried the ladder inside and leaned it against the wall. Do you have a man to take care of the place? he asked.

She took a deep breath and fought to consider his question a natural one rather than a chauvinist slur. Then again, if he was looking for work, that was another matter entirely. It’s possible for women to run a successful enterprise by themselves, Mr. Keene. Or at least, we hope it is.

Sure it is. I just meant somebody ought to be handling the heavy work for you.

We may hire someone soon, Joelle replied, and they would when they could afford it. Her aunt had given her only six months to make a success of the hotel, and she wouldn’t spend a nickel she wasn’t forced to. Let’s go back to the front door to begin the tour. Are you the one thinking of marriage? She crossed her fingers and made a silent wish he wasn’t.

Rick nodded and blushed. Yes, I am. My fiancée, Lisa, is an attorney with a Santa Barbara firm, and she doesn’t have the time to plan our wedding herself.

Joelle’s heart sank, and she paused by the veranda steps. She had never met a woman who was too busy to plan her own wedding, which gave her hope Rick and Lisa wouldn’t remain together long enough to wed. She nodded and reached out to pat his arm. He was warm, the way men always were, a trait she hadn’t forgotten even if her love life had flat-lined.

We’re all so busy now, aren’t we? We offer a complete wedding package. I’ll do the ceremony myself if you don’t have a clergyman you’d prefer. My Aunt Dinah handles the flowers, decorations and catering.

You’re a minister, ma’am?

He looked shocked, and she wondered how long it had been