Seaside Retreat: An Enemies to Lovers Sweet Romance: Cape Harriet Series, #4

By Roma Brooks

A divorced man with nothing to lose. A prim librarian with a shameful secret. It's hate at first sight!

Connor has endured the worst year of his life, dumped by an ungrateful wife who took him to the cleaners. He arrives at the Rising Tides Inn seeking a week of solitude, thanks to some generous friends. But the peace he craves is not on the calendar.

 

Amy's trying to dodge the curve balls life has thrown at her, juggling two jobs, caring for her sick aunt. She has no time to spare but is determined to do whatever it takes to fulfil her aunt's last wish. Then her world comes crashing down.

When Connor ploughs into Amy's house, he unwittingly wrecks the garden she's toiled at for months. They instantly become sworn enemies. But fate throws them together again and again until they discover they have a lot in common. Can they overcome the ghosts of their pasts and build a future together?

 

Don't miss these other books set in Cape Harriet -

Second Love

The Sisters Bloom

Christmas Miracles

Seaside Retreat

Between Friends

Chesapeake Sunsets

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roma Brooks
• Release date: Jul 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223307082

Book preview

Chapter 1

Zadie Strathmore bustled around in her large, professional kitchen.

When’s our new guest coming in? she asked her husband Pete.

Pete Strathmore looked up at his wife as he carefully sliced cucumbers for a salad.

Should be here in an hour or so. I’ve put him in Sage on the third floor. He can enjoy the privacy until the other two rooms fill up.

The Strathmores owned and ran the Rising Tides Inn, a luxurious Victorian in the small town of Cape Harriet. Located on the strip of land called the Eastern Shore of Virginia, it was the perfect getaway for people wanting to escape the daily drudgery of their lives.

Is he single? Zadie asked.

Pete shrugged. I guess so. He’s coming on his own. The payment came from someone else so maybe this is a gift of some sort.

The Strathmores were used to pampering their guests, looking after their smallest need. Very often, this extended far beyond providing comfortable accommodations and gourmet meals. They had a big word of mouth business. Most of their customers came back year after year, and also sent friends and relatives over.

Hmmph, Zadie grunted. When are you heading over to Fern’s?

Fern’s Dairy Farms was an organic dairy in Cape Harriet, run by a spry 70 year old woman called Fern. Her artisan cheeses were famous up and down the coast from Maryland to Virginia. The locals had access to the freshest ricotta and mozzarella, thanks to the online updates Fern posted whenever a new batch of cheese was ready.

Soon as I get these veggies chopped for you, dear! Pete smiled.

Mid May was moderately busy at the inn, and it provided a nice ramp up period for the Strathmores before the summer rush.

A car could be heard coming up the driveway, and they heard the engine die. The doorbell rung soon after.

Looks like he’s here, Zadie said, pulling off her apron, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

Pete was already hurrying toward the front door. He flung the door open, ready to greet their guest.

Welcome to the Rising Tides Inn. I’m Pete Strathmore and this is my wife Zadie, he said, gazing curiously at the shorter man who stood on his doorstep.

Dressed in neatly pressed pleated khakis and a blue half sleeved shirt, the man looked like he was about to attend a business meeting. But his immaculate dress warred with his sweaty face and mussed hair. It looked like he had wrung his hand through it several times.

Pete wondered if he was some kind of door to door salesman, but then he spoke up.

I’m Connor Brown. I have a reservation.

Come in, come in, Zadie beamed, ushering him in.

His shoulders relaxed and the man sighed as if a big weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Long drive? Zadie asked sympathetically.

He nodded, taking a deep breath.

Glad to see you got here safely, Zadie murmured.

The man shuddered as he answered Zadie. Almost!

What do you mean? Zadie asked curiously.

Let the man come in, Zadie, Pete interrupted his wife. I’ll get your luggage, he offered, peering outside to look for a parked car.

What am I thinking, keeping you at the door? Zadie fluttered and ushered their guest inside. Let’s check you in first.

She led the way through a spacious foyer to a large check-in desk at the end. A round Turkish rug in vibrant colors enveloped a wide area.  A large mahogany table stood in the center of the rug, topped with a crystal vase filled with a profusion of colorful flowers.

Pete waved his arm around expansively. See these roses? All from our own garden.

The man seemed to cower. I’ve had enough roses for the day, I think.

He backtracked and tried to correct himself. I mean, these flowers are lovely. You have a nice place here. My friends can’t stop talking about the Rising Tides Inn.

Zadie smiled at him as she checked his ID and wrote in a big book.

Connor Brown stared through the wide glass window, gazing at the beach that lay beyond it. Lacy white sheers fluttered in the mild breeze coming from the ocean. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the clean, salty air.

Zadie handed him the key to his room.

You’re on the third floor. I hope that’s not a problem? she asked.

No one else there at this time, Pete added, so you’ll have the run of the place.

Connor nodded politely and started up the stairs, hefting a small duffel bag. It seemed to be the only luggage he was carrying.

Lunch is at 12:30, Zadie called out.

Connor’s stomach rumbled as he climbed up the stairs. He was starving. He had missed breakfast and he barely remembered the burger he had picked up at the fast food joint somewhere on the Interstate last night. He was low on cash and even a greasy burger was hard on his wallet. But his friends had assured him that the place came with meals.

He had driven into Virginia around midnight, and then pulled over at a truck stop when he couldn’t stay awake any more. After freshening up in the morning, he had driven on to the Rising Tides Inn. And just before he reached the inn, he had run into some trouble. A vision of an angry woman, screaming and gesticulating wildly flashed before his eyes. He brushed it away and forced himself to relax.

He entered his room and almost ran to the far end. Wide glass windows took up most of the wall which looked over the ocean. From his vantage point, the horizon appeared to be very far. Sunlight shone on the blue-green waves of the Atlantic. White caps appeared at short intervals, and large waves crashed on the sand. A row of comfortable wooden beach chairs lay scattered on the beach. The beach looked clean and blessedly secluded, just as promised.

He looked around the room, done in muted shades of green. Peach cushions were scattered on the bed and a peach wingback chair was placed strategically facing the windows.

A knock on the door startled Connor.

Hello, I’m Dahlia, the maid, a tall, curvy woman announced as she maneuvered a large tray in her hands.

Hi, Connor mumbled.

Zadie sent over some refreshments. Just something to hold you until lunch.

The door shut and she was gone in a second.

Connor blinked, silently thanking his guardian angel. He collapsed on the chair and took in the pitcher of iced tea and small plates of assorted food.

He grabbed what looked like a sandwich and took a big bite. His 7 year old son George would’ve been wagging his finger. Wash your hands first, and then sanitize them, George would say.

Connor smiled to himself and reached for another sandwich. Turkey and Swiss cheese, with some mustard and some kind of greens, he decided. He reached for the slice of carrot cake that rested on another plate, guzzling a glass of the lemony sweet tea.

Soon, Connor was stretched out on the bed, fast asleep. His phone lay beside him, silent. It was mostly for emergencies. No one called him any more, not even his own kids. Especially not his kids.

Chapter 2

The ravishing woman smiled at him seductively. Her silky dress flapped around her legs, well above her knees. Her eyes invited him to come closer.

He gaped at her beauty, finding himself mesmerized by the come hither look in her eyes. She plucked off a bunch of roses and crumpled them in her hand. She breathed gently and scattered the petals in the air, all around him.

They’re just flowers, she shrugged. They’ll grow back. Why don’t you come in for some sweet tea?

Connor smiled in his sleep, engrossed in his dream. Then he jerked awake and sat up. It took him a while to get his bearings. One look outside the window steadied him. He laughed out at his ridiculous dream. The real life woman had been nothing like the dream. Well, she had been as ravishing.

Connor wasn’t sure if he was allowed to find women beautiful, given his current situation. He just knew he’d had a close call.

The large 32 ounce coffee had worked for a few hours, but he was nodding off by the time he drove off the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel onto the Eastern Shore. By the time he took the turnoff into Cape Harriet, his car had swerved onto the shoulder a few times. He should have stopped and taken a break, but there had been no rest area once he got off the bridge.

He was exhausted as he drove into town, and his eyes burned. Then he had seen a vision. A stunningly beautiful woman with silky hair streaming behind her, dressed in a sexy halter dress. She was standing by a small fairy tale cottage, surrounded by a white picket fence. A couple of trees shaded the green lawn, and an array of roses hinted at a well maintained rose garden. The woman held a watering can in her hand, and she seemed to be murmuring something to her roses.

Connor had blinked, trying to shake off sleep and he jerked his wheel to the right as a woman walking a dog suddenly appeared before him. He turned toward the curb, closing his eyes shut. The car had bumped over a low curb and ploughed straight into the picket fence. He braked hard, but his car had trampled all the flower beds before it came to a stop. The fence was broken, and the woman was rooted to the spot, her mouth open like a fish, her eyes