Everybody wants to be kind and caring, but you must not go easy on your protagonist.
—Romance Writing 101
After her shower Sadie took the time to blow-dry her hair and salvage her makeup. Not an easy task with that perma-smile etched on her face. She basked in the wonder of returning Mr.Ford’s anniversary gift. Not to mention that passionate kiss in the rain—she’d have to write that into her novel.Whew!Who knew thunderstorms could be so sexy?
When she finished touching up her face, a peal of thunder rattled the windows. She gathered a quivering Rio in her arms. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy will protect you from the mean ol’ storm. Wanna go next door and see Sam? You do? Well, let’s go!”
On her way out she grabbed the plate of cookies from the stove top. She wished she had more to contribute to dinner, but she’d been too busy this week to get groceries. Oh well, she’d make him dinner tomorrow night. Something nice, maybespaghetti carbonara or seared scallops with a nice lemon herb sauce. She’d ask him what he’d like.
Hoping to stay dry she slipped out the back and dashed for Sam’s door under the overhang. He had yet to touch the grill, but then, she hadn’t been gone that long.
Holding both Rio and the cookies, she struggled to slide open the door. She slipped inside and pushed it closed. “Oh man, it’s a downpour out there. I brought cookies. I would’ve brought a side dish but—”
She stopped at the strange expression on Sam’s face. He stood in the dining room, still in his wet work clothes, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. “Why haven’t you—?”
She noticed the sheaf of papers in his hand. It took a second to recognize those pages. And realize what he’d been doing the past thirty minutes or so. Her heart gave an unsettling wobble. “Oh, I left my manuscript...”
There was more she should say. She just couldn’t figure out what that should be. The foreboding expression on his face stole the words from her mind before they could find their way to her tongue.
He set the pages on the table. “Your story seems very familiar.” His deadened tone did nothing to allay her fears.
“Yes, I know, I...” She thought her way through the story, trying to see it from Sam’s point of view. The similarities were obvious despite her efforts to deviate from real life as much as possible.
He waited for her to continue, still watching her but detached somehow. There might as well have been a cement wall between them.
“I was desperate for an idea—you know that. And then I hadthe thought of using the book with the secret compartment and it all just started clicking.”
“Because most of it actually happened.”
She winced. “Yes, that’s true. And I should’ve told you what I was doing, I see that now.”
“Yes, you should’ve. Because now I’m wondering how much ofthis”—he waved his hand between them—“is real and how much is fiction.”
“No, Sam.” She took a few steps closer.
Eyes wary, Sam stiffened.
“It’s not—I meant everything I’ve said and done. I care about you very much.”
“Have you ever been in love? Or are you like your heroine? Is that why you were so nervous about writing this book?”
Clearly not the time to profess her love for him—he might not even believe her at this point. Anyway, he was talking about earlier on, about her fears of writing an emotion with which she’d had no experience. “Yes, that’s why I was afraid to write it.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “So I have to know... when we talked about giving this relationship a try, did this story factor into your decision?”
She opened her mouth, an emphatic denial on her tongue. But wait. She had considered that the relationship would be an inspiration. She specifically remembered thinking in terms ofresearch. She grimaced.
His expression closed as he looked away. “Right.”
“That was just a small part of—that wasn’t the main factor at all, Sam. I was going to tell you about the similarities in the story, but—”
“Similarities? It’s practically autobiographical.”
Rio wriggled in her arms and Sadie loosened her grip. “Yes, you’re right. To be perfectly honest—”
“That would be refreshing.”
“—it was earlier in our relationship, and I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, and I was getting stressed, and I guess I figured it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission.” She squeezed her eyes in a wince. “That sounds so awful. It was wrong. I should’ve been up front with you about it. I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with the idea.”
