The Bosun: A Military Romance (Love is Blind Book 3) by Harlow Layne (e reader pdf best .txt) 📗

back her laughter any longer, Pen leaned against the booth as she laughed.

“Relax, no one is getting arrested.”

Walker wrapped an arm around Pen’s waist and started to guide us out of the café. “You can’t be too sure. The guys might decide to do something stupid without you there.”

“Do you know something you aren’t telling me?” He shook his head, but that didn’t stop Pen from continuing to ask questions. “Are you trying to make me feel bad for doing something with my friends? Should we find them?”

“No, I’m fucking with you. No one is getting arrested. Tonight, tomorrow, or any other night if I have any say on the matter.” He looked over his shoulder to Lexie and me. “She takes her job way too seriously sometimes.”

“Because I like my job and don’t want to get fired, and I want Crimson Heat to be the best. That’s not going to happen if you guys are out partying every night, doing drugs, or getting arrested.”

“I know, babe. Tonight, we’re going to have a little fun, but not too much fun. Okay?”

I liked that even though Walker was young, he seemed to have a level head and knew how to calm Pen down when she needed it. Seeing them together made me feel better.

“Let’s go have some fun, girls!”

15

Stella

Lexie and I stood outside by her pool, looking at the angry sky. We’d only been home from Amsterdam for two days, and there was a fire threatening to burn down our homes. If the wind shifted even the tiniest amount, it could very well send the flames to our little town. While I’d said I wanted to live in Malibu because everyone knew of it, I lived a little further south between the Pacific Palisades and Santa Monica. Up until now, the location hadn’t mattered as much.

“I can’t believe this. Do you think we’ll have to evacuate?” Lexie held her camera to her chest after taking about a hundred pictures of the sky.

“Maybe. I really don’t know. They think it’s possible it might reach us if they don’t get the fire contained.”

“Will you keep us updated?” She glanced over at me and then back to the sky. Lexie and Ryder would be gone for the next two weeks on jobs, and I knew it was hard for them to leave with the uncertainty of what would happen.

“Of course, I will. If you want to pack a bag or bags of things you’d like for me to take if I have to leave, do it. After you leave, I’m going to pack a bag to be ready just in case.”

She nodded. “You know you could come with us if you want to. I hate leaving you here alone.”

I wasn’t too thrilled about it either, but I couldn’t run from all my problems. “I know, and thanks. You don’t need to worry about me. If I need to, I can always go stay at Pen’s house until it’s over.”

“Baby, it’s time to go,” Ryder called from the door with Delilah on his hip. “Stella,” he called to me, “be safe.”

“I will.” I’d won the lottery having those two as my neighbors. They could have been stuck-up assholes like the rest of my neighbors, but instead, they’d become some of my closest friends.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Lexie said as she leaned over and hugged me. “I expect you to have the first five chapters of your book written when I get back.”

Pulling back, I laughed. “Now you,” I accused her. Pen was always on my case about how I procrastinated. I didn’t need Lexie to start in on me as well.

Walking backward to her house, she only grinned at me until she reached the door. “What can I say? You need someone to hold you accountable.”

I did need the accountability, but it was hard to write when you thought your house might burn down with you in it.

Heading back over to my house, I grabbed my computer, not wanting to think about the fact that I was now alone. All my friends were off living their lives while I sat in my office, stuck somewhere between my past and the present.

Pulling out a stack of index cards, I wrote down all the pivotal points that would occur in my story and tacked them up on the wall. Before I’d moved in, I’d had a person come out and make one wall in my office a tack wall so I could pin all my notecards to it.

Some days, I’d stare at it for hours as I tried to conjure up the twist that would keep my readers reading.

After covering a fourth of my wall with my notecards, I was wiped out. Now that I had my key components done, I’d start writing in the morning.

It felt like my head had barely hit the pillow when I was woken up by my doorbell ringing. Cracking open my eyes, I looked over at my clock to see it was a little after ten in the morning. The blackout curtains I had installed were doing their job at keeping out the bright morning sun. I liked to wake up when my body told me it was time to wake up. It usually resulted in a better writing session than when I woke up with an alarm.

As I trudged downstairs, I already knew today wasn’t going to be a good writing day. My head felt fuzzy from not enough sleep.

My doorbell went off again. Whoever it was was impatient. “I’m coming,” I yelled as I hit the first floor. Swinging open the door, it occurred to me I should have looked at my phone to see who was at the door. It could have been some annoying salesperson or one of my neighbors. All people I wouldn’t answer my door for.

“Good morning, ma’am, I—” He stopped talking the moment our eyes landed on each other.

Standing before me was Remy. Remy from Seas the Day in a...firefighter