With Every Goodbye: A Winter Beach Novel, #1

By Renea Porter

MAX
I knew I wanted her the moment I saw her. But it was selfish.

I was selfish.

Because I was only going to be in Winter Beach, Texas for three months. Long enough to find out that Grace Summers would be my muse. Just enough time to get another collection of paintings ready. As much as I wanted Grace, I couldn't commit to a relationship. I wasn't ready. And neither was she.

GRACE
After just ending a relationship, and losing myself completely, there was no way I was prepared to begin again. Then came Max who made me question everything I thought I knew.

My art gallery was featuring a collection of his paintings for the next three months and then he'd be gone. Surely, I couldn't fall in love that quickly...or could I?

Like the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renea Porter
• Release date: Aug 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386643746

Renea Porter

Renea Porter is best known for writing realistic stories with realistic characters. Her stories may even cause you to shed a tear or two. She mainly writes New Adult and Contemporary Romances. However, she's not afraid to venture into other genre's like Paranormal Romance. She enjoys spending time with her husband of fourteen years, and step son. She calls Pennsylvania home, but loves to travel and try new things. In her free time you can catch her reading books, watching reality tv, and baking.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

GRACE

What are you doing? Hunter followed me around the room. The stunned look on his face was priceless. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so fed up and at my breaking point.

Flinging my suitcase on the bed, I filled it with most of my belongings. What does it look like? I’m leaving you, Hunter. You’ve been cheating on me for god knows how long and I’m done.  I’d finally had enough of his philandering ways.

He stepped closer to me. Grace, no. You can’t leave me. What about my campaign?

I couldn’t help the wicked laugh that escaped my mouth. Your campaign? You should have thought about that before you stuck your dick in someone else.

He took hold of my arms and looked into my eyes. But, I thought we were going to work on our marriage.

I jerked myself from his grip and started throwing the rest of my clothes in the suitcase, I went back and forth from the large walk-in closet while my cheating husband watched.

What was it exactly that caused you to stray? Was it because she’s younger? Thinner, maybe? Or maybe she can pop babies out for you?

Hunter reached out to me, but I stepped back. Grace, please don’t do this. I can do better.

All you care about is how you look for your political campaign and in the public eye. I’ve decided to go to Winter Beach, the beach house. I zipped up my suitcase. I can’t do this anymore, Hunter. You checked out months ago. I’m sick of the whispers behind my back. It’s too much. Have a nice life.

He followed me as I walked through the house and to the front door.

You can’t leave me!

Watch me. Have a nice life. I shoved the suitcase in the back of the black SUV and got behind the wheel. I never looked back. Winter Beach was only a three-hour drive.

Hunter and I had been together for ten years. Our life was perfect until he cheated and it became national news. You would think we were the Clintons. I stayed in the house for a whole week after the news broke. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t ready to confront Hunter just yet. Then it was slapped in front of my face and my worst fear became my worst nightmare. Ten years of marriage right down the drain. And now, at thirty years old, I was starting over and heading to my Winter, Texas home. Thank god I had that. A place to go to mend my broken heart. The beach town was small enough that people always treated us as if we were just normal people and not the political power couple we really were. Only, this time, I was going alone.

Once the media got hold of the affair, the late-night shows had fun making jokes about my situation. And I just needed a break from the media frenzy that has become my life. Our Winter Beach home was located right on the beach. We mainly rented out the home in the summer. But I was looking forward to the seclusion, because I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I was mostly looking forward to the showing at One Moment, the art gallery I opened up a year ago. I graduated from college with a degree in art and have always loved it. When I mentioned it to Hunter, he encouraged me to open my own gallery. But three months into the process, he became distant and was no longer interested in anything I had to say, and then sex stopped altogether.

Three hours later, I pulled into the Victorian two-story house. Memories of parties and charity events came flooding back causing my heart to squeeze a little. But this place made me happy. It felt more like home to me. I parked the car in the long driveway, while I fumbled with the key in the front door.

Stepping inside the entryway, I flipped the light switch next to the door. A scream escaped my throat as I noticed a male holding a bat, ready to attack me.

Who the hell are you? he asked, relaxing his shoulders and lowering the bat.

I’m Grace Summers, the owner of this home. Who the hell are you?

Max Holt. I rented this place for the summer.

It all came back to me. You’re the artist One Moment is hosting. I set my keys on the side table next to the door as we stood in the entry way. I held my hand out to shake his. I’m the owner of One Moment Gallery. I’m Grace Summers.

He broke out in a smile, it was wide and genuine as he took my hand. Nice to meet you. Look, I’ll find another place in the morning.

Nonsense. This house is big enough for the both of us. Unless you prefer to have your own place, but it will be hard to find something since the summers are pretty booked.

Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay, then? he asked apprehensively.

I waved my hand. I’m absolutely sure. I smiled. As long as you aren’t a murderer.

He chuckled. I’m not. But if you’re sure, then I’ll stay. I’d hate to move my things any way, he grinned. Don’t worry. You won’t even notice I’m here, he said.

No worries. I’m going to get settled in. It was nice meeting you, Max, I said as I turned to go get my luggage.

Goodnight, Grace.

Goodnight.

After getting my luggage and hauling it upstairs, I walked back downstairs and into the kitchen and poured myself some wine. Heading back upstairs with my glass and the bottle, I settled in by hanging up the rest of my clothes and putting my products away in my suite bathroom. Then I changed out of my clothes and settled in bed.

CHAPTER TWO

MAX

As I was headed to my bedroom from the bathroom, I noticed a light on in what I assumed was Grace’s bedroom. Movement caused my eyes to look in to the slightly ajar door. I got a view of Grace’s bare back as she slid into a night shirt that barely covered her ass. I had to force my eyes to look away, and walked down the hall to my room. Grace Summers was fucking beautiful from head to toe. She was older than me, maybe by four years or so, but she was stunning enough to cause me to stop in my tracks. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed the growing bulge in my pants at the sight of her, and not many women caught me off guard like that.

Perhaps I found my inspiration after all. Aside from what I planned to showcase at the gallery this summer, I hadn’t been able to produce anything new.

Since my work became popular four years ago, I travelled a lot. Every city wanted to host me and showcase my work. I lived for the passion of it. And making connections had helped me along the way. Plus, there had never been a shortage of women, but I never stayed long enough to have a relationship. Most of the women I’d been with knew that up front and were fine with the arrangement.

This summer I was doing things a little different by staying in one place for a full three months before the next adventure. However, right now, nothing was on my plate except the showcasing here in Winter, and working on some new pieces.

GRACE

Waking up in the beach house, I felt refreshing. Nervousness swirled in my belly as I realized why I was in Winter Beach. I hoped people didn’t treat me differently since the scandal. I went there to escape that. Getting out of bed, I pulled my satin robe on, securing the tie around my waist, and headed downstairs. I went in search of coffee as I smelled it brewing.

Then I remembered I had a houseguest. Max Holt. My cheeks heated at the thought of him and his gorgeousness. I spotted the dark haired handsome man sitting at my kitchen table sipping on a mug, gazing out the window, perhaps admiring the beach. He was shirtless, and I had to force my eyes away as my mouth dried.

Good morning, I said, announcing myself.

His mug went crashing on the floor, shattering in to pieces with coffee spilling on to his bare chest. Shit, he muttered.

I immediately reached for a washcloth and ran it under water. Just stay there. I don’t want you stepping on glass, I told him.

Grabbing the broom on the way over to him, I handed him some paper towels for his chest while I scooped up the shards of ceramic into a pile. He sat there, wide legged, as I bent down in front of him to wipe up the coffee. When I looked back up at him, his eyes were hooded and I was sure he noticed my hardened nipples and my cheeks flushed.

I’m sorry about your mug. I hope it wasn’t important.

No. It’s fine. Let me get you another mug. I still hadn’t gotten a chance to grab one for myself. Opening the cupboard, I realized the mugs were higher than I could reach and I frowned. Then I felt a hard body pressed in to my back as he reached up for two mugs.

Thanks. I blushed.

No sex for nearly six months was starting to get to me. Max had an allure about him, his hair almost black and his eyes light as the ocean view from the back of the house. But it was the facial hair that had me. He had exactly the right amount of stubble on his face. It made him even more alluring. In all honesty, he should have been on the cover of GQ magazine. He was that gorgeous.

How do you take your coffee? I asked, pouring the liquid in the mugs.

He was seated at the table again with no remnants of the spilled coffee.

Black with two sugars, he said.

Making both coffees, I passed one to him and sat across from him.

Thanks, he said, and leaned forward. So, tell me, who is Grace Summers besides an art gallery owner?

When we met, I gave him my maiden name so he had no clue who I was. I hoped. Or who I was associated with. I didn’t want to bore him with the scandal. And my rings were put away in a drawer.

God. I’m thirty, and probably the most boring person you would meet. I read a lot, I hold charity fundraisers that I’m passionate about, and I run the gallery. Geez. That is sad, I admitted. Through the years, I was a wife, but my husband was focused on his career and I was there to cheer him on while he worked his way to the top. But we are separated now.

Well, I don’t believe you are the most boring person. I find you quite intriguing, Grace.

I looked down at my mug while he continued speaking. What do people around here do on Sundays?

They go to church, the food market, the beach and maybe shopping. But everything closes early on Sundays. Not much to do but venture out or stay in. And the beach is outside the back door.

I noticed. It’s beautiful.

You can go watch the boats and the ships coming and going. I like to do that sometimes, I admitted.

Max stood from the bench, finishing his coffee. I’ll let you get on with your day. I think I might go out and explore.

Okay. Have fun. I’ll be out back on the beach if you want to join later, I told him.

I might do that. But just so you know, I’m cooking dinner tonight. I hope you like Italian. He smirked.

I love Italian.

Great. See you later.

I smiled and made a mental note to ask about his tattoos later. Finishing my coffee, I headed upstairs to change into my white bikini. Once I changed, I grabbed my colorful sarong and called my friend Dee. While I packed my things in a tote, I made sure my Kindle was fully charged. Then the doorbell rang.

CHAPTER THREE

GRACE

Hey stranger, Dee said as I answered the door, reaching out to hug me. She had her platinum blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Hey, yourself. You look great. Maybe you can share some of your magic with me, I said as we walked through the house and out the sliding glass doors that led to the beach.

Oh, please. Grace, you look great.

I looked down at myself. I’m like thirty some pounds overweight.

She shoved a hand out. I’m sure it’s stress related. But honestly, you can’t tell. She knew about my troubling marriage and couldn’t believe Hunter did that to me. So, you finally left that bastard?

We spread out the blanket as we continued to talk. I sure did. I just got in last night... and I have a houseguest.

She lowered her sunglasses and looked at me in surprise.

I guess Hunter rented out the house for the summer and I had no idea. I took the sunscreen lotion and lathered it on.

Who is it? she asked.

It’s Max Holt.

I think I remember you mentioning that name, she tried to place who he was.

Yeah. The gallery is showcasing his work throughout the summer.

I remember now. Girl, he’s hot. He should be your revenge boyfriend.

I gave her a confused look.

You know. You could use him to get back in the game. He’s leaving at the end of the summer, right?

Yeah. But I laughed off her suggestion, considering it the most absurd thing I ever heard. We continued to gab and laugh in the summer heat.

Is this Max Holt single?

I don’t know. We only got to chat for a few minutes this morning, I said, adjusting my sun hat. From what I know, he’s a player. He’s had his share of women.

Well then. That’s perfect. Take him for a test drive.

Dee, I just left my husband. The last thing I need is another man.

I’m just saying, you should consider it.

Having a revenge boyfriend didn’t sound so bad. It wasn’t like Max was sticking around for the long haul. Maybe he was just the guy I needed to get back in the game.

Max said something about making dinner tonight, so we’ll see how that goes. I giggled.

Dee’s eyebrows raised and she smirked. He cooks, too?

Apparently.

We continued to bask in the sun for the remainder of the afternoon, and before I knew it, the sun was about to set.

Dee and I bid goodbye as I assured her that I’d let her know how things went with Max. I had no intentions of pursuing anything anytime soon. Inside the house, I went upstairs to shower and change. Once I was ready and on my way downstairs, I could already smell the food.

MAX

If someone would have told me Grace was wearing that sexy white bikini, I would have made a point to meet her on the beach. I caught a glimpse of her as she was going upstairs, though she didn’t know I saw her. From what I could see, her dark red hair set off the white bikini, and she had amazing curves in all the right places. Her body was perfect. So fucking perfect.

Back in the kitchen, I stirred the homemade spaghetti sauce and checked on the breaded chicken in the oven. Aside from being a world-renowned artist, I was a great cook, and the least I could do was cook Grace a meal since she agreed to let me stay in her home.

When she came back down the stairs, she was wearing a blue and white spaghetti strapped sundress, while her hair hung in loose