For the first time in years, Nash wants to let a woman into his world, but while his loss made him stronger, that strength came at a price.
Whisper of Love
The Bradens - Peaceful Harbor, MD #5
Melissa Foster
Releasing Feb 22, 2017
World Literary Press
When Nash bought his farmette, he had one goal in mind—to provide a loving, stable home for his son. He never imagined he’d be raising Phillip alone, or renting out a room to keep their heads above water. Then again, he never imagined losing his brother, or spending two years sailing around the world with parents who seemed to forget one son was still alive.
Sparks fly from the moment Tempest moves in, and her positive energy and inquisitive nature brings new life into Nash and Phillip’s quiet, confined world. For the first time in years, Nash wants to let a woman into his world, but while his loss made him stronger, that strength came at a price, leaving him walled off and wary of opening his heart again.
Nash Morgan shifted his three-year-old son,
Phillip, onto his hip and reached behind him to shut the gate. The chickens
scurried away amid cackles and mad wing flaps. He set Phillip on the ground,
and his son shook his head, shrugging like he’d been doing this for twenty
years and couldn’t believe the chickens still ran from them. He ruffled his
boy’s springy dark curls, drawing a serious, expectant look and an outstretched
hand from Phillip. Nash loved his little man’s eagerness to get started on
their evening chores. He handed him a smaller bucket from inside his larger one
and nodded toward the coop.
Phillip returned the
nod and clomped his booted feet into the coop to collect the eggs. Nash
adjusted his baseball cap, listening as Phillip counted off each egg with an
“Mm-hm.”
He drew in a deep
breath, hoping, for the millionth time, that he was doing enough for his son.
He was the only parent Phillip had. Or rather, the only one who wanted him, a
fact that never failed to grate on him like nails dragging along a chalkboard.
His cell phone rang and Larry Robert’s number flashed on the screen. Nash
uttered a curse. Larry owned a gallery in North Carolina, and he’d given Nash
his first big break. A break that could have carried him to a lifetime of
success. But after Phillip was born he’d been unable to keep up with the demands
of custom orders. Larry was opening another gallery in Virginia, and he wanted
to feature Nash’s work. Nash had turned him down, but Larry was persistent.
Swallowing the acidic
taste of disappointment, he let the call go to voicemail and looked across the
yard at the barn, which served as his workshop for the furniture he made and
sold in town. He’d long ago locked up his metalworking and wood-sculpting
workshop and stored his unfinished work. Gallery-worthy pieces, if he ever had
the time to finish them. Pipe dreams. He’d had them, even made them
a reality for a while. But that was a long time ago, and there was no sense
thinking about something that could never be—at least not until Phillip was
much older.
He ducked into the
coop and checked the chickens’ food and water. Scanning the nesting beds, he
snatched up the few eggs Phillip had missed. Phillip leaned against Nash’s leg
and yawned. Nash couldn’t imagine anyone not loving their child with all their
heart, but Phillip’s mother, Alaina, had taken off three months after their son
was born, and other than receiving official documents releasing her from her
parental rights, he hadn’t heard from her since. Not a day passed that he
didn’t worry about the long-term effects her leaving would have on his son.
“Good job, Phillip.”
He said his son’s name so fast it came out sounding like “Flip.” He set down
his bucket, wrapped his arms around his boy, and whispered in his ear, “I love
you, little dude.” He kissed his cheek and scooped him up, earning the sweetest
giggle known to man.
Nash grabbed the
buckets and headed for the goat pen. Big and Little, the two goats, trailed
behind them as Phillip followed Nash through the process of checking their food
and water and sweeping out the goat house, as he did every night. Phillip
wiggled the nozzle of the water pipe, just as Nash had, mimicking his “Hm.”
Nash tossed a cup of oats in the food bin and waited while Phillip did the
same. Big nibbled on Phillip’s shirt, and Phillip leaned down and kissed his
head.
“C’mon, buddy.” Nash
had grown up in rural Virginia. Most of his friends had lived on farms, and he
had no doubt that caring for animals would help Phillip learn responsibility.
Not to mention that his son adored all types of animals, from squirrels to
goats to worms. That was just fine with Nash. In his experience, animals were a
lot more trustworthy than people.
The sound of tires on
gravel drew his attention. He scooped Phillip into his arms, locked the goat
pen, and grabbed the buckets.
“Visitor,” he said,
carrying Phillip toward the house and eyeing the Prius parking behind his old
Ford pickup truck. His truck was a gas guzzler, but as much as he hated that,
he needed the bed of the truck to haul the furniture he made into town. He
hoped Tempest Braden, the woman coming to see the room he was renting out,
wasn’t a preachy tree hugger. Hell, he hoped she would turn out to be the
silent type so he could pretend she didn’t live in their house.
Phillip’s brows
knitted, his hands firmly planted around Nash’s neck. He wasn’t used to
visitors. The last several people who had come to see the room they had for
rent hadn’t been the kind of people Nash wanted around his son. They’d rubbed
him the wrong way—too aggressive, too loud, too shady, too flighty. He just
needed a stable, responsible person to rent the room so he could afford to
upgrade a few of his tools and start saving for Phillip’s future. He tightened
his grip on his son and headed up to meet the tall blonde stepping from the
car.
Her wispy skirt
fluttered around her knees. Large pink roses with muted green leaves looked as
if they’d been thrown onto the flimsy white material haphazardly. A fringe of
lace lined the edges. On anyone else the flouncy, floral skirt might look
immature. But her legs went on forever, and coupled with her tight,
curve-hugging tank top, she looked like Sweet and Sexy collided at the corner
of Sinful Temptation.
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA
Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and
heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance, and women's fiction with
emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the
last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic, perfect beach
reads, and always family oriented.
Thank you for featuring WHISPER OF LOVE
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